A Summer Inheritance
by Heather68
Summary: Harry thought his life would go back to normal once Voldemort was defeated, but on his 17th birthday he discovers a secret that will change his future.
1. Prologue

**Co-written with Stormypup**

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and company belong to JKR and all the various businesses that now have a greedy share of the profits and own control over the character names and likenesses. This sadly means we make nothing from this except our own enjoyment...and possibly yours too!

**Warning: **This story will contain m/m relationships mainly between Severus Snape and Harry Potter. If this offends, I apologize.

**A/N:** Written for Round 5--Royalty & Nobility at **thematic hp**: Harry doesn't know that he's royal. He also doesn't know that one of the teachers at Hogwarts is his bodyguard.

I'm posting both the prologue and chapter one today because I will be gone for the rest of the weekend so enjoy!

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Prologue**

"You must understand me, Thelonious. We have to leave, but if you disappear too..."

Thelonious kept his head bowed. His knees ached, but he didn't dare stand. He could sense the eyes of the only onlooker boring into the back of his head in sheer disbelief. "I understand, my lord."

Strong fingers curled in his lank hair, and Thelonious shuddered. "Do you?"

"Yes. I swear."

"Swear on your magic, Thelonious, or I will not believe you."

The dark haired man raised his eyes to meet striking green and extended his hand, clasping his king's.

"Do you swear on your blood and the blood of your descendants, Thelonious Prince, that you shall protect my family in any way possible, now and down through the next generations, even if it results in your own death."

Thelonious' fingers curled tightly around Carlisle's hand. They were no longer king and steward; they were the two little boys who had befriended each other at the tender age of six, who swore they'd do anything for the other. "Yes."

A shot of glowing orange flame surrounded their hands from Helena's wand and it tingled beneath the surface of his skin, before vanishing. Hands still clasped Thelonious waited for more demands to be made of him, but none ever were.

* * *

Harry couldn't wait to get out of the Dursleys' house. As soon as he was seventeen he was leaving and never going back. His things were all packed: everything he owned, which wasn't much, was shoved into his trunk. When he was seventeen he could do all the magic he wanted, and the first order of business would be casting a featherweight charm on his trunk. 

At the stroke of midnight Harry stood and grabbed hold of his trunk, preparing to activate the Portkey that would take him to the Burrow. But before he had a chance to do so, a goblin appeared, holding a sheaf of paper.

"Now then, you are one Harry James Potter, are you not?" the goblin asked.

Harry lowered his wand, but didn't pocket it. "Yes?"

The goblin looked at the topmost piece of paper and began to read. "In accordance with the laws of inheritance, Harry James Potter shall inherit the wealth of the family Potter, kept in Gringotts Bank until the aforementioned Harry James Potter reached the age of his majority. Please sign at the X's here, here and here," the goblin said, shoving the papers into Harry's hands before producing a quill.

Harry took the quill after a moment's hesitation and scrawled his name where indicated. The scroll vanished immediately, startling him.

"Thank you, sir." The goblin adjusted his vest and looked ready to leave, but Harry had so many questions.

"Where is it now, if it's not in Gringotts?"

The goblin looked at him speculatively. "The Potter Manor."

"But--"

"Good day, Mr. Potter."

"Wait!" Harry cried, reaching out for the goblin. "I don't know where that is!"

The creature gave an annoyed huff. Snapping his fingers, the scroll that had just vanished returned. "Read it this time."

Harry took the scroll and opened it, reading it very carefully. He had no idea what was going on, but he wasn't going to blow it by not reading the fine print.

His eyes swept over the neat print, widening at points when it outlined just how much gold was now in his parents' vault and the Black vault combined, before finally reading the clause talking about land. He scanned the numerous properties and then: "Where's Breyvath County?"

He briefly contemplated that this might be a work of Voldemort, but why would the Dark Lord care about his financial gain?

"You are Harry James Potter?" the goblin asked again, studying Harry carefully.

"Yes, but...look, just tell me where it is."

"It is Unplottable so I cannot give you precise directions. But as far as rumors have it the county is in the Southeastern portion of Scotland and was owned exclusively by your family. Why don't you know this?"

"Nobody bothered to tell me," Harry said, staring at the parchment. "So this other stuff, at Gringotts, I can just use the key I've got already?"

"Of course, it's all been transferred to your vault."

Harry handed him back the scroll feeling faint. "Thanks, I think."

"Good day, Mr. Potter," the goblin said, before disappearing with a crack.

Harry sat down heavily on the bed. "Inheritance? Potter manor? What the hell is going on?" he muttered. The Weasleys were expecting him to show up despite the fact it was the middle of the night. He could figure this all out there. With any luck, Hermione would be there already as well.

Still shaking his head, Harry rose to his feet, grabbed his trunk, and activated the Portkey.

* * *

Mrs. Weasley patted his cheek the moment he could stand up straight again. He would have preferred the Floo system rather than a Portkey which dropped him on the ground every time. "Happy Birthday, dear." 

"Thank you."

Ron was sniggering over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder and Harry glared at him. "Come on, mate, your bed's all made up in my room," Ron told him, still grinning.

"Harry, can I get you anything? Are you hungry?" Mrs. Weasley asked, already fussing over him.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Harry said, smiling at the Weasley matriarch.

"Alright then, if you're sure, go on up to bed, and don't forget – you'll both be getting up early tomorrow! Hermione will be arriving early as well, and I need you to be awake and ready."

"Can't forget, you keep reminding us," Ron muttered. "Come on, Harry."

Harry grinned and gave Mrs. Weasley a soft goodnight as he and Ron took to the stairs.

"What are we doing in the morning?"

"Mum's on a cleaning spree for the wedding. We've got to get the yard perfect and the house perfect and everything bloody perfect for them."

Harry snorted. "You sound so happy for Bill and Fleur."

"I am happy for them, I'm just not happy about being a ruddy House Elf until then," Ron groused, opening the door to his cramped room. Harry shoved his trunk to the foot of his bed.

"Ron, listen, I've got to go to Gringotts tomorrow, do you think your mum will mind?"

"She'll smother you and insist someone, not me, goes with you. You know my mum."

Harry grinned and nodded. "I thought as much. Actually, is Hedwig here yet? I'd like to send an owl to Remus to see if he can come with me. I want to ask him some questions anyway." Harry didn't know why he wasn't just blurting it all out to Ron, but he wanted to sort it out first. And he didn't want to rub it in Ron's face that he might be even richer than he thought.

"Yeah, she showed up about an hour ago. Can't this wait until morning though?"

"Not really," Harry said. "I want him to be able to answer by morning, and I'm not sure where he is, so I don't know how long it will take. So I figured if I get it sent off tonight he'll get it sooner."

"All right then, but don't expect me to still be awake after you've sent it," Ron warned as he crawled into bed.

Harry smiled. "Thanks for the warning. I'll make sure to make as much noise as possible when I come back in."

"Prat," Ron said good naturedly, rolling onto his side.

The smile was gone from Harry's face as soon as he left the room. This whole business with an inheritance made no sense to him at all. He'd inherited all of his parents stuff already hadn't he? He figured if anyone would know what it was all about, that person was Lupin.

He headed down towards the kitchen and went out into the backyard and called for Hedwig.

Hedwig came swooping down from a nearby tree and landed on Harry's outstretched arm. "Good to see you, girl," Harry said, stroking her downy feathers. "I need you to deliver a letter for me, but I thought you might like a bit of a treat first," he said, carrying her back into the kitchen.

Hedwig, who had moved to perch herself on his shoulder, nipped at his ear in an affectionate manner. Harry reached up, stroking her white plumage. He blundered about Molly's kitchen, finding a bit of food left over from the Weasleys' dinner and held it up to Hedwig to take.

She hopped to the back of a chair and waited while Harry wrote the note to Remus.

_Remus,_

_A goblin from Gringotts came to visit me tonight. He told me that I had inherited the family fortune and Potter Manor and a bunch of other stuff. Do you have any idea of what he was talking about? I thought since you knew my parents, you might know. I'm supposed to go to the bank tomorrow to check my vault, and if you can get away, I was hoping you could come with me. Please send a reply back with Hedwig letting me know._

_Thanks,  
Harry_

He folded the note and sighed. "Take this to Remus, would you Hedwig?"

She hooted, took the letter, and took off, flying out the open window in the kitchen. Harry slumped back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling.  
It was all probably some ploy of the remaining Death Eaters to draw him out into the open. What else could it be? If there was a manor house somewhere and vaults full of money someone would have told him by now.

Sighing, he made his way upstairs and shucked off his clothes before crawling into bed. Ron's snoring was oddly comforting as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter One

**Co-written with Stormypup**

**Disclaimer: **_See the Prologue_

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter One**

That morning at breakfast Hedwig delivered a letter to Harry. He snatched the letter from her beak, let her take some of his bacon and then shooed her off. Hermione tipped her head to the side, and he decided to tell her what was going on the first moment he got the chance.

The letter was short, almost terse and only a few sentences long.

_Harry,_

_I'll be there at ten. Be dressed and ready to go, make sure you eat all the food Molly puts in front of you. I don't know how late we'll be getting back._

"Who's that from, dear?" Molly asked, setting more eggs in front of him.

"Remus; he's going to be here at 10:00 to go with me to Gringotts," Harry said, folding the note and putting it in his pocket.

"Lucky you," Ron muttered.

"Morning," Ginny said, coming in to the kitchen and pulling up a chair next to Ron. "Hi, Harry," she added. Her smiled looked a bit forced and Harry knew that was his doing.

"Morning, Ginny," he answered.

"Well, you'd best finish up those eggs then," Molly instructed pointing her spatula at his plate. "Remus will be here in an hour."

"Are you leaving already?" Ginny asked, looking surprised.

Harry shook his head. "Just for the day, I suspect. I have to do some things in Diagon Alley."

"Want some company?" Ginny asked.

Harry felt very awkward. "Not this trip, I've got some things I have to take care of with Remus."

Ginny's smile was weak and Harry felt bad. He knew at some base level that pushing her away wasn't accomplishing anything more than keeping her close. He had no excuse anymore. He pushed his eggs around his plate with his fork, no longer hungry.

"Harry, eat," Hermione urged, eyeing his half-eaten food with a worried look.

Harry made a show of scooping up a large forkful of egg and cramming it into his mouth.

He hadn't had a chance to even speak to Hermione alone for five minutes yet this morning and she was already fussing over him. He suddenly couldn't wait to leave with Remus.

Twenty minutes later, he was dressed, well fed and nervously pacing the Weasley's living room. Something about the terse nature of Remus' letter had him bothered. He was certain that if the entire thing was a ploy by Voldemort Remus would have been direct about it, but for some reason the letter had seemed edgy and worried.

He stopped and looked at his watch and saw that there were still four minutes left.

"Relax, Harry."

Brown eyes stared at him plaintively from his best friend's face and he sighed. Hermione enveloped him in a gentle hug, which he reciprocated without much thought. He had finally got a chance to tell her what was going on and she had tried to reason with him that inheritances happened all the time. Some happened upon the person's death like Sirius', but some were held until the adults felt the child receiving it had reached the right age. But still, Harry couldn't imagine why someone hadn't told him that his family controlled an entire county in Scotland. The entire thing was insane!

"Do you think Ron's gonna be mad that I haven't told him yet?"

"There really isn't much to tell, is there?" Hermione said, matter-of-factly. "Once you find out what's going on for sure, then tell him."

Harry grinned, tugging a lock of her curly brown hair. "Thanks, Hermione."

"You're welcome; just don't put it off too long once you get back. You know how Ron can get."

"Yeah, I know."

"Harry, Remus is here!" Molly shouted from the other room.

"Gotta go, see you this afternoon," Harry said, smiling nervously before going to meet Remus.

* * *

The Goblins at Gringotts seemed more obliging that day, or perhaps Harry was just less wary of them and more determined to get things done. Either way, Harry with Remus beside him was careening down the tunnels in the mine cart, the familiar nausea only a background thought to what Remus had told him earlier.

Apparently the inheritance wasn't a fraud. James had received it upon his parents' death during the first war right before marrying Lily. They never really looked into it, and never got the time to either before they were forced into hiding and then killed.

When they opened up the vault, Harry nearly staggered backward at the sheer volume of gold and various rolled up scrolls of parchment.

"I swear it's grown since your father inherited it," Remus said, smiling at Harry.

"I don't want it," was the first thing Harry thought to say, followed quickly by, "Why are there parchments in here?"

"I don't know exactly, your parents never had time to go through them all. That's why I told you to eat well; I thought we might be here for some time."

"Great," Harry murmured.

Remus rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "Come now, it's not all bad. We'll start in the back and make our way forward."

"What are we looking for exactly?" Harry asked as they headed deeper into the vault.

"I don't know, but I'm sure we'll know when we find it," Remus said, grinning.

"Should have made Hermione come too," Harry said, entering the vault and stepping past and around coins. He reached for a scroll and began to read.

It talked about the properties he now owned. Harry set it aside to read later when he got back to the Burrow. Some of the technical jargon made his head ache. The next few pieces of parchment Harry found were no less interesting, and Harry managed to gather just why he was so rich. He discovered that a long while back his grandparents had invested in a few companies that had taken off in the Muggle world and all their profits had been transferred through Gringotts.

It wasn't until an hour later that Harry stumbled upon a beaten up journal. He picked it up and a shiver shot up his arm. He dropped it immediately.

"Remus?"

"Hmm?" Remus asked, looking up from the scroll he was reading.

"This journal kinda...shocked me," Harry said, rubbing his arm.

"Shocked you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, like a static shock."

"It didn't hurt you, did it?" Remus questioned, bending over to examine the old journal.

"No, just shocked me, and it didn't feel bad, just weird."

Remus cast a few spells. "There's nothing more on here than a protection spell and a few privacy ones. I'm assuming if I touched it, it may hurt at worst and best be blank when I opened it."

"Should I try and open it?" Harry asked as he picked it up; this time the shock didn't startle him. He ran a thumb down the spine with a small frown. The last time he had hold of someone else's journal it had been Tom Riddle's. But it was a strange thought that one of his ancestors might have kept the same sort of object. Stupid, in fact.

"Go ahead, Harry."

Harry swallowed thickly and turned it over in his hands a few times before opening it. Immediately, spindly handwriting began to form across the pages and Harry almost dropped it in surprise.

"What's the date of the entry?" Remus' queried gently. Harry could practically feel the intrigue from the werewolf and he glanced at the top corner, pushing down the piece of parchment with his thumb as he tried to make out the date. His eyes widened a bit when he finally managed to make out the year.

"April 1567. Is it possible for it to be that old?"

"Yes, it's very possible," Remus said, moving to look over Harry's shoulder. "This is amazing, Harry!"

Harry wasn't sure what was so amazing about it, other than it was extremely old.

"What do you mean?"

"This is probably the journal of one of your Tudor ancestors," Remus exclaimed, and Harry could see he was almost itching to get his hands on it so he could read it all.

"Oh." Harry had to fight with himself to not admit that he really had no interest in his ancestors. There were more important things he wanted to learn about – like his more immediate ancestors, the ones he might have been able to meet, not the ones that stories and legends could have been written about.

"Maybe if I give it you myself, it will let you hold it," Harry said hopefully.

"I'd rather not take the chance of harming it," Remus said, holding up his hands. "I think you'll find it more interesting than you think," he encouraged.

"Come on Remus, please?"

Remus smiled. "Look at it this way. Even if I do read it for you, that just means you have to keep going through all these scrolls," he said, motioning to the seemingly never-ending piles of parchment.

"Right, I'll just be over there reading this then," Harry said, pointing towards the blank space in the vault.

"Good boy," Remus said, returning to the pile of scrolls he had been reading. "Let me know if there's anything interesting in there."

"If I can make out the handwriting it's a sure thing."

Remus snorted and left Harry to it.

Harry settled himself into the blank spot on the floor, his back pressed against the cold wall of the vault. Crossing his legs, he opened the journal and laid it across his lap. He tried to wrap his mind around the date. There were people in the world, he knew, who would love to get their hands on a primary source this old.

Fingering the page again, Harry squinted at the text and slowly began to read.

_April 1567_

_Thelonious was acting oddly this morning. I have no worldly idea why he would be. Perhaps it is just the lingering dread of my father's death, but that seems strange even to me. After all, it was my father, not his, who is perilously close to death. He has been cold to me for most of the day and it is becoming infuriating._

_I wonder if perhaps he thinks I will change if my father does indeed die. I am in no way ready for the responsibility that will fall on my shoulders when he does. The world is a tumultuous place and I want nothing to do with it. If it were allowed, I would suggest my younger brother take my place. He always seemed to enjoy being in charge._

_Alas, there is nothing more I can do about the situation at hand. I do not think I could stand losing Thelonious to his own idiotic thoughts and feelings at the same time I lose my father. I doubt I shall be able to endure going through the bereavement and the coronation without at least knowing he doesn't hate me._

_He's looking at me right now and I cannot determine what he is thinking. Those dark eyes of his never let any emotion shine through anymore. Not since his mother died. I miss my childhood friend who used to tease the servant girls with me. I miss the friend who would help me escape from my younger brother and who would run into the forest with me at a whim. I miss him, and it has only been a day. What will another feel like? _

Harry sat back, looking thoughtfully at the scrawl on the pages. He had one name now, Thelonious, though it wasn't much to go on. Harry found himself drawn to the next page, curious to see what was going to happen next.

The date wasn't any different than the page before, just the month and the year. Harry readjusted his glasses, and began to read once more.

_He hates me. That is all there is to it. He will not speak to me, he will not look at me. I have no idea what I feel if I am feeling at all. He hates me; the thought hurts more than it should, far more than it should._

_I long to hear him say anything to me, even if it is just my name. But that is a fool's wish at best. I do not even know what made him hate me. To my own knowledge I have not changed, but it is clear that he despises me._

_Helena laughed at me when I told her. She is such a dear. Mother seems to think so as well and I get the sense she may just let me marry her, or possibly make me marry her. I will not mind it as such. She is soft on the eyes and a welcome change to all the disaster going on around us._

_Father is dying. I am finally willing to admit it. The healers have no idea how much longer he may live, but just looking at him gives me all the answer I need. He shall not see May. I am horrified to realize I know nothing about ruling this country, nothing. I regret never listening to my tutors and with the fear of rebellion strong amidst Muggles and wizards alike I do not think I will survive through the year. If Thelonious read this he would laugh and most likely strike me for it._

_Two weeks. It has been two weeks and I wonder if I will hurt this much when father finally dies._

Harry eagerly turned to the next page.

_May 1567_

_I wonder if I am a Seer. _

Harry blinked and snorted – that was all the entry said. Glancing over at Remus, he saw the man's eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"What's wrong?" he asked into the quiet vault.

"You have a Manor house," Remus said, still reading through the document. "I don't think James had any idea, or he would have taken you and your mother there."

"Potter Manor?" Harry asked, curiosity piqued.

"I think this is somewhere in northern Scotland, but I'd have to look at a map to be sure. This is just mind boggling," Remus said, looking up at Harry. "Maybe it's because you're the last Potter left and James wasn't once he had you, because we had no idea."

"Why is it so hard to believe? I mean. I thought it was just something all rich people owned. A manor."

"It's not just a manor, Harry, it's a whole county. That means that manor and everything around it," Remus explained.

"But, how can you own a whole county?"

"I'm guessing it was given to your family by a monarchy, I just don't know which one."

Harry blinked for a few seconds and then stared down blankly at the second entry he had read, and after staring at it uncomprehendingly for a couple of seconds, passed out.

* * *

"Harry, come on now, wake up," Remus said, waiting for Harry's eyes to open. He had already cast Enervate on him, but Harry didn't seem to want to face the world just yet.

"Go 'way, Moony," Harry mumbled, pushing the tawny haired man away.

"At least I know you're alright," Remus said, chuckling. "Come on Harry, wake up or I'm taking you to St. Mungo's."

Harry turned his head and glared at the man. "You take me there and I'll hex your balls off."

"Now you sound like Sirius," Remus joked. "What happened and should I be concerned?" Remus was already concerned, but he knew if he fussed too much, Harry would refuse to do anything.

Harry held the journal tightly to his chest and then released it. "Can you read this?" Harry asked, holding up the text. He pointed one finger to the entry in question and waited.

Remus read though the entry quickly, then read it again. "The author was about to go through their coronation," Remus whispered. "If this is one of your ancestors..." he looked at Harry, whose eyes were wide.

"Then they were the one about to be king," Harry said, his mouth going dry. "So I wasn't wrong?"

"I can't say for sure, but it's more important than ever to read through all of this," he said, motioning to the all scrolls.

"Can I just stick to the journal?" he asked hopefully. "It's not like I understand any of that." He pointed at the remaining scrolls littering the vault. "It's more illegible than a Potions textbook."

"Continue on, I'm going to try and find something more official looking amongst this mess," Remus said, going back to his scrolls.

"Remus?"

"Hm?"

Harry bit his lip and bowed his head. "What happens if...I mean...what if my ancestor really was...?"

"I have no idea, maybe nothing other than you get your inheritance. We'll deal with the other when we know for sure what exactly the other is."

Harry nodded, and settled back into his original position. "Hey, Remus?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for coming with me. I know we haven't talked a lot, but...thanks."

"Anytime, Harry," Remus said, smiling.

Harry grinned and turned his attention back down to his ancestor's journal. He wondered who else had read these entries. Which one of his ancestors had read these words and come to the same realization he did. He pushed those thoughts to the side and went back to his reading.

_May 1567_

_My father died yesterday. I cannot even describe the grief on my mother's face when we received the news. For a moment I feared she would go with him, but she did not. Thelonious stood in the shadows, but for the first time in weeks I could feel his eyes upon my back and it comforted me. I wish to speak with him. No, I need to speak with him. I cannot go another day without him pushing me along. My coronation is tomorrow and I dread going through it alone. I need someone by my side and as much as I enjoy the company of my fiancée. I wish for my best friend to be there as well._

_I am finding myself running short on time. I have so many thoughts I wish I could write now, but it shall have to wait._

_May 1567_

_It is official, I am now King Carlisle Liam James Potter IV. The Wizarding world rejoices, but I cannot find it in me. I never wished to be King. Thelonious, why won't you talk to me when I need you most?_

Harry bit his lip. "Well, shit."

"Harry?"

"Malfoy's going to get a nosebleed if he finds this out," Harry said with a harsh laugh.

"What did you find?"

"King Carlisle Liam James Potter IV. That rather sums that up, doesn't it?" Harry said, not sure how he was supposed to feel.

Remus stared at him for a long moment, and Harry shifted under his gaze.

"Harry, have you learned about the revolution in History of Magic yet?"

Harry looked sheepish. "Probably, but Binns tends to drone on and I only hear about a quarter of what he says. I do know that Wizards chose to withdraw completely from the Muggles when they started getting weird ideas about witches." Remus looked uncomfortable. "Just spit it out Remus, you're making me nervous."

"What date did you say that journal was from?" Remus asked.

"1567, why?"

"Well, for one thing, the Revolution happened in 1570, so I'm imagining this Carlisle was at the heart of the action. The Wizarding world wished to do away with a Monarchy altogether, but there were some who would fight for their kind. If I had heard that king's name before, surely I would have recognized the similarities. But that's neither here nor there. The Monarchy was officially overthrown on December 28, so that the new ruling party could start their reign and the new order of things on the first day of the new year."

Harry nodded and knowing something about history from his early years still at the Dursley's he asked, "Are those who opposed the monarchy still out there?" Along with those who support it.

"I think the journal you're reading will make a fantastic timeline for us to work with. When you get to important looking dates, jot them down, will you," Remus told him.

"Can do," Harry said, looking at the narrative in his lap. This was huge, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to stand to get back to the mine car. His legs already felt like jelly and he hadn't even stood up yet.

"Alright, this just isn't going to do. It's time to call in the troops to help us get through all of this quicker. Harry, you could possibly be the last living Potter heir. I suggest we shrink the lot of it and go back to Molly's. At the very least get Hermione working on it too. I'm sure she'll pick up things that both of us miss."

Harry nodded in agreement and stood, using the wall as a support. He clutched the worn leather journal to his chest possessively and helped Remus shrink some of the scrolls and stuffed them into his pocket.

As they climbed back out of the vault and got into the mine cart, Harry let his mind drift to his ancestor and his supposed best friend. He could almost see them in his mind and was startled to realize that he truly wished to know more about their relationship than what had inevitably happened to Carlisle.

One uneventful Portkey trip later, they stood outside the Weasley's front door and knocked. When Molly opened the door, she ushered them inside. "Well that went faster than you thought it would," she said, smiling at the two of them.

"We gave up down there," Harry answered, giving her a lopsided smile. "We needed more eyes."

"For what dear?"

"Yeah, for what?" Ron asked.

Harry stared at his best friend for a second, before asking after Hermione. Ron didn't even get the chance to answer before the bushy-haired brunette came into the entryway.

"Can we move somewhere where we can sit down?"

"Yes, of course we can. Into the sitting room, the lot of you."

The three teenagers moved as one, afraid of incurring any unnecessary wrath from the matronly woman.

Remus wandered in behind them moving a bit more slowly. When everyone was settled in, Ron asked again, "What's going on, mate?"

Harry bowed his head, his fingers tracing the cracks in the leather of Carlisle's journal. "I-- Remus and I discovered something when we were in my parents' vault."

"What's in your hands, Harry?" Hermione asked, moving to settle beside him.

Harry looked over at her and grinned weakly. "It's Carlisle's journal."

"Carlis--WHAT?"

Harry winced.

"As in King Carlisle? Why did I never connect those before?!" she cried.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe it's because the idea of me being royalty is absolutely insane?"

"Royalty?" Ron asked, his surprise evident.

"Well, maybe not royalty, but still," Harry assured, having his own doubts about the entire thing.

"Start at the beginning, Harry," Hermione suggested.

"I'm not sure there is a clear beginning. I mean...all I know is what this journal has been telling me." He shook it for emphasis and sighed. "I haven't even read half of it yet."

"Which brings us to our next problem," Remus said, pulling all of the shrunken scrolls out of his pocket and enlarging them.

"Blimey," Ron said, eyes wide at the sheer mass of them.

"My pockets are full too," Harry said. "Mrs. Weasley, I know you're getting ready for the wedding and everything, but can we use this room to go through all this today? It would mean stealing Hermione for a bit."

Ron elbowed Harry.

"And Ron," he added quickly.

"I'll send them all out to help the moment we're done, Molly," Remus assured her.

Molly glared at the three teenagers and then bobbed her head. "All right. But I'll expect you all to help me degnome the garden tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Mrs Weasley," Harry and Hermione answered, followed by Ron's sullen, "Yes, mum."

Remus clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "Let's get on with it then!"


	3. Chapter Two

**Co-written with Stormypup**

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Two hours later found the four of them elbow deep in scrolls. Harry had been taking breaks off and on to read more of the journal for what he claimed were purely research reasons. He didn't want to admit that he desperately wanted to find out what happened between his ancestor and his closest friend. Thelonious sounded like a prick to him, but he was beginning to understand why Carlisle liked him so much...maybe even loved him.

"I think I found something!" Ron called out excitedly, shaking Harry from his reverie. He set the dull property deed back down on the floor. It was the fifth one he had come across.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!" Ron held out a scroll that Harry reckoned was at least five feet long.

"It's got your whole family tree on it," Ron said. "You go back ages, Harry."

Hermione scooted over and helped Harry unfurl it completely. His eyes traced down the vein-like lines, going over unfamiliar, sometimes unpronounceable names of his family. It took him a while, but he finally found who he was looking for.

"There you are," he whispered, finding Carlisle's name about a quarter of the way down the parchment.

"Did you have any doubts you'd find him there?" Hermione teased.

"No, not really," Harry said, but seeing it there just helped solidify things for him.

"Prince? Is that a title or a family?" Ron asked, looking over another long scroll.

"There's another one?" Harry gently laid down the one in his hands and craned his neck to see the heading of the new one.

"Yeah, it's as long as the other one," Ron said, holding it out for Harry to see.

"There's Thelonious!" he cried in triumph.

"Who?"

Harry flushed. "He was Carlisle's best friend."

"Could I see that a moment?" Remus asked, holding out his hand. He had a strange look on his face as he began to scan the scroll. "Merlin," he whispered when he saw the name near the bottom of the scroll.

"What is it now?" Harry asked, feeling frustrated. He stood up and walked around the pile of parchments, settling a hand on Remus' shoulder, and peered at the parchment. His gaze swept the names, heading towards the bottom without seeing anything odd. That was until Remus moved his thumb off the sole name at the bottom.

"No, that's not possible," Harry said, shaking his head. "Remus, tell me that's not possible."

"What? What is it?" Hermione asked, moving to stand behind Remus' other shoulder.

"It's Snape," Harry said, still disbelieving what he was seeing.

"What is?"

Harry looked at Ron in disbelief. "On the parchment. It's Snape, that's...that's insane. I mean." He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "It's Snape."

"But it said Prince," Ron argued.

"Which means his mother was probably a Prince," Hermione corrected. "See, there, Eileen Prince. She married Tobias Snape, and they had Severus who of course, took his father's name."

Harry thought back to all the references Carlisle made about Thelonious. Dark eyes. Lank black hair. Could be a real prick when he wanted to.

"Unbelievable," Harry whispered.

"Harry?" Hermione gripped his arm, looking up at him worried.

"I'm fine, just surprised," Harry lied.

"Are you sure?"

"Leave him alone, Hermione. Let the guy have a heart attack in peace."

Harry glowered at the redhead. "Thanks, Ron."

"Harry?" Remus said gently.

"I'm alright, honest," Harry said tightly.

"I was going to ask if you had found anything else in that journal."

"Nothing specific, but if it's alright with you guys, I'm going to turn the scrolls over to you and focus on it for a bit."

"Go ahead, mate. The sooner we get through this, the sooner I have to help mum," Ron said, grinning as he picked up another scroll.

"A little manual labor won't kill you, Ron," Hermione scolded.

"I don't mind manual labor so much as mum standing over me to make sure it's done to perfection," Ron replied dryly.

Harry tuned out their bantering and focused on the journal.

_June 1567_

_Thelonious looked ready to speak to me again. However, mother decided to intervene and dragged me away to talk to Helena. It is my birthday. I am king. I should have been able to talk to whoever I wished. I suppose I cannot just say no to mother. Especially after the horrible spring she endured._

_The Masque was dull. I was never one for dancing, and to be honest I would have rather gone out into the country on a hunt, but I was not allowed. I had to be there to greet the courtiers, many of whom I could not care less about. I--_

Harry blinked and scowled at the smudge on the page. Carlisle hadn't even finished the sentence. He flipped the page, confused.

_June 1567_

_He kissed me._

"He what?" Harry whispered, his eyes flickering to the next heading, but the date wasn't until July.

_July 1567_

_The wedding plans are in full swing now and Mother and Helena are as thick as thieves with their plotting. It's not merely a wedding, but a King taking his Queen to wife. It's sad to know that one has absolutely no control over one's own life._

_July 1567_

_Helena is such a darling sometimes. I have no idea where mother found her, but I am forever thankful she did. I love her, but not in the way she needs to be loved. She is like the younger sister I wished I had. I would gladly replace my brother with her any day._

_Our wedding is tomorrow and as much as I dread going through it, knowing that Helena knows my feelings towards her makes it much easier. I hope to be a good husband to her, even if I do not become the most attentive._

"You can't say something like 'he kissed me' then gloss over it," Harry muttered.

"What was that?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing, just thinking out loud, sorry."

_July 1567_

_Thelonious was crying. I have never seen him shed a tear since he was six when he tripped in the woods and twisted his ankle. I do not know how to make things right for him. I know I should, but I do not know how. Helena must think I am the foulest person on the planet. We have been married for a week and I have yet to touch her in any intimate way. I know I must. I cannot, however._

_What is wrong with me?_

_September 1567_

_Helena is with child, I have produced the required heir. If it is a not a boy, I'm not sure what I will do. Thelonious tells me that I must do my duty, but his eyes are so sad, and so full of pain. Is no one to be happy?_

_December 1567_

_The Muggles are revolting. I do not know how or when they began. I hate to admit I am afraid, but I am petrified._

_January 1568_

_The Muggles have been subdued and an accord of sorts has been reached. It feels tenuous at best. Thelonious will not allow me to leave the castle without a retinue of guards, not even to walk my own grounds. He's so stubborn, yet I would be lost without him. I think Helena is beginning to resent him, but she hides it well._

_January 1568_

_Helena looks pregnant. I suppose I had been able to shove it aside once I discovered it to be true, but not any longer. You can see it in the gentle swell of her stomach. I told her I loved her and her usual grim expression brightened like the sun. She is gorgeous._

_Thelonious has not been around in a week or so now and no one has seen him. I worry. Despite the country settling I do not like the idea of him being out there amidst the Muggles, although I know why he is. He always believed in the ideals of my father's adviser, more so than even I did. Equality. I trust Thelonious to know what he is doing; yet, I still worry._

_February 1568_

_Thelonious, please come home._

_April 1568_

_I am numb. Thelonious returned in late March just as the rainy season began and he is in a bad way. He is pale, so very pale and his face is grim and mangled. His breathing is not steady and he has yet to awaken._

_Helena holds me at night as I sob out the grief as it overwhelms me. If he dies…_

_May 1568_

_Thelonious has recovered, but he is not the same. His eyes look haunted and he refuses to speak of it to me. I believe I hurt him when I used my title to force him to answer. He still refused to speak of it, and now he is not speaking to me at all._

_Life was so much simpler when we were mere boys, playing with our swords made of tree branches. If he had never kissed me, would I feel this way? I already know the answer, so why do I bother to ask?_

"Because you're an idiot," Harry answered in a soft undertone.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to find the rest of the room staring at him.

"Yes?"

"Who's the idiot?" Ron asked, smirking.

Harry flushed. "Nobody."

"Learn anything interesting?" Hermione asked.

"The Muggles have started rebelling a bit, but it says they reached some kind of agreement," Harry told them. "We know that's not going to last."

"And that makes him an idiot?"

Harry shook his head. "No, that wasn't what made Carlisle an idiot."

There was a moment of silence.

"Well? You gonna tell us or what, mate?" Ron finally asked.

"No."

"Harry, the guy is dead. He won't get offended if you spill his secrets."

"Nope, I'd rather watch you squirm with not knowing," Harry said, hoping Ron would just let it go. "Let me finish this, then we'll talk about it."

"Spoilsport," Ron said. "These scrolls are boring," he said, tossing one on the top of the 'read' pile.

"I'm sure your mother would like help in the yard," Hermione said sweetly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm reading," Ron muttered, grabbing another scroll.

Harry met Remus' eye and frowned. He wasn't sure he actually wanted to tell anyone about what he was reading.

_May 1568_

_I have a son. He is red and scrunched up, but my mother assures me I was no less disturbing to behold. Despite his outward appearance though, I could not be prouder of the babe nor of my wife. Helena was in such pain when I last saw her, but she is fine now. Sleeping as a matter of course._

_Thelonious has hardly spoken one word to me all day and then it was only to tell me to calm myself. But how does one stay calm through that sort of ordeal? No matter, both child and wife are safe and now I have a son. My son._

_June 1568_

_My son smiled at me today. It's a strange feeling, looking into eyes so alike to my own. When I entered the Nursery, Thelonious was holding little James, and his face held such longing, that my heart nearly broke in twain._

Harry exhaled softly, and glanced around to make sure no one heard him.

He stretched against the couch and yawned. "I think I'm going to head upstairs for a nap if that's all right."

"Sure, mate. Just make sure to be down for dinner."

"Guys, this stuff can wait, go and do something else for awhile, you've got to be bored stiff."

"I'm fine," Remus assured him, smiling. "I'm finding this oddly fascinating."

"You're a strange man, Remus," Ron said, getting to his feet and stretching.

Hermione smacked him on the leg. "Behave."

Harry grinned and left the room, making his way to Ron's attic bedroom. He flopped down on the bed and opened up the journal.

_August 1568_

_I have wounded Helena deeply, and I don't know that she will ever forgive me. She acts as though all is well, but she cannot hide the pain in her eyes. I thought she had gone to the manor house. If I had known there was any possibility she would see us… I gave in to my carnal desires and I have hurt my wife, the mother of my child. Thelonious has left, giving her time without his presence._

_October 1568_

_Thelonious has taken a wife. It was unexpected and it leaves me unsettled. Why does it bother me so much?_

_October 1568_

_I hate her. I hate her thoroughly, and yet I cannot say it to her face. She stole my Thelonious and now he will hardly grant me a few minutes of his time. If Thelonious did not appear to be in such high spirits...I truly have never hated another soul quite as much as I loath her._

_November 1569_

_We almost came to blows today. But then he pressed me against the wall and suddenly we weren't fighting anymore. But then he left without a word. Why does he always do that?_

_November 1568_

_Things are quiet this week. Little James is adorable and I tend to spend more time with him the Helena does. I cannot quite get over that we created such a precious being. I told her this just the night before and for the first time in over a month she looked at me with something other than thinly veiled scorn._

_I dare say I shall try and make things up to her the best way I can, but there is only so much I can do._

_January 1569_

_The first snow of the season has occurred. I took Jamie with me out of doors and held both his hands as he made his way through the lightly falling snow_ _. He is just learning how to walk with our help and can't make it very far at all. Thelonious stood back_ _, but I could feel his eyes following our every movement and I am grateful for the uncalled-for protection. Helena called me 'sweet' this morning. What am I supposed to make of such a compliment?_

_January 1569_

_Helena is being extraordinarily attentive. Perhaps she feels less threatened with Thelonious occupied with his own family. Women are a mystery. We are going to the manor house for the week. Thelonious has found someone to send in his stead._

_February 1569_

_There are days I would love to tell my advisers to do everyone a favor and take a sword to their necks and behead themselves._

_March 1569_

_There are rumblings of unrest among the Muggles once again. Thelonious has forbidden me to go anywhere without him. Just who is the King?_

_March 1569_

_He was right. He is always right. How on earth does he always know?_

_May 1569_

_The weather is finally turning warmer. Jamie loves being outside. I wish matters with the Muggles weren't so pressing, for I long to be outside with him._

_May 1569_

_For some ungodly reason, Helena insists we throw a party for dear Jamie's birthday. I do not enjoy these sorts of gatherings. They tend to become uncomfortable._

_May 1569_

_Thelonious carved a small wooden horse for Jamie's birthday. It's quite similar to the horse his father carved for me when I as a lad. I'm sure he will treasure this gift as I treasured mine._

Harry closed the journal and let it fall to the floor beside him with a soft thump. His mind buzzed with all the new information he was gathering and there was one staggering issue that was bothering him most of all. Why wasn't he bothered by the sexual relationship between his ancestor and Snape's ancestor? Thelonious was every bit the same git that Snape was on a good day, shouldn't he be feeling at least a little ill at the thought?

At least Thelonious seemed to have a heart. Harry was fairly certain Snape did not.

Snape.

Harry sat upright. Did Snape know? Was he aware of the link between their families?

Suddenly that question was in the forefront of his mind. Surely he couldn't have, though. Snape had treated him like scum since the first time they met. There was no way Snape could have known that their families had been tied inexplicably for tens of generations.

But what if he did? What if Snape had known and he stilled treated him that way?

Harry wondered if he went to sleep, would he wake up and find this had all been just a dream? He fervently hoped so.


	4. Chapter Three

**Co-written with Stormypup**

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Three**

The next thing Harry was consciously aware of was the scent of pork chops coming from downstairs. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and then threw his legs over the side of the bed. His foot kicked the journal under the bed and he had to get on his knees and dig around under the bed to get it back. He stood, brushing the dust from his knees, then shook his head.

"You can use magic now, Harry," he muttered, realizing he could have just summoned the book to him.

He wondered how long it would take him to get used to that idea. Setting the book on the center of the bed, he made his way slowly from Ron's bright orange bedroom and went downstairs to where everyone was seated.

"Have a good nap, Harry?" Remus asked, setting his knife down. Harry grinned and nodded, sitting beside the werewolf. Molly bustled around the table with a jug of pumpkin juice and poured him a glass and urged him to start to eat.

"Did you lot find anything interesting?" Harry asked around a mouth full of potatoes.

Harry watched as the Ron and Hermione traded wary glances. "Well?" he demanded.

"There was an interesting passage in one of the scrolls," Remus began, and Ron and Hermione both visibly relaxed. "Perhaps you read something similar in the journal." Remus wiped his mouth and set his fork next to his plate. "There was mention of a vow connecting the two familiars through the ages. At some point, a member of the Monarchy used a vow to bind their stewards to them. Basically, it was a guarantee that their stewards would lay down their lives for their king."

Harry blinked, and then blinked again. "Steward?"

"For example, from what we have gathered, Thelonious was Steward to Carlisle," Hermione said carefully.

"No." Harry shook his head. He'd already figured out that Thelonious was someone of importance, not that he'd share how important he was to Carlisle. "What is a steward?"

"It's someone who is close to the King, an adviser and trusted councilor. In this case, it appears the Steward also acted as a bodyguard of sorts."

Harry looked at Hermione in confusion. "And the vow did what?"

"It ensured the King could trust his Steward. The Steward was expected to do everything in his power to protect the King, even if meant his own death," Hermione answered.

"Surely that's voided by now, right?"

"I honestly don't know," Remus said, picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of chicken. "There were no specific details of terms and conditions."

"I don't want Snape to be bound to me."

"Can't imagine he'd be thrilled with the idea either," Ron muttered.

"No," Harry struggled to find the right words. "I meant, the way it sounds makes it seem like I'd have authority over him, and I don't want that."

"There is nothing that says you would have to exercise any authority over him. The fact that you may have it does not mean you must use it," Remus said, pointing his fork at Harry.

"He'd never believe that though."

"Maybe he doesn't know," Ron offered. "It's not like he ever has to either."

Harry, outraged at the suggestion, stood up abruptly almost knocking over his chair. "This concerns him as much as me, if not more than me. I'll be in your room, reading."

Ron looked at Hermione, eyes wide. "What'd I say?"

_**June 1569**_

_Thelonious was staring at me from across the table. I'm not sure he was even aware of doing it. But I was aware, I was very aware. When my eyes catch his and hold, the rest of the room disappears, it is only he and I. And then he scowls and stalks away, his cloak billowing about his knees in a very dramatic fashion. He was angry at something only Merlin himself may know. This time when he ran away, I followed. I caught up with him just outside one of the small bedchambers. He stopped when I called his name._

_Oh my Thelonious, so conflicted, so torn. I offer him the only comfort I know and as he's moaning against my mouth, he relaxes, bit by bit, until once again, my dearest friend stands with me. I told him this had to stop. He told me, in his way, that it could not be stopped, and he certainly wouldn't make an effort to make it thus. He reminded me again, that we are bonded by blood and magic and only death will break those bonds. Sometimes I hate Theolonious._

Harry felt marginally better at the words. He could completely agree with that sentiment. There wasn't a moment he could remember where he didn't hate Snape, and yet he had just defended the man, quite vociferously. Defended him to the point where he had confused all those present. Respect might be part of it, he reckoned, and concern. No one had seen the man since school had let out, or at least he hadn't.

Dumbledore surely would have mentioned if something bad had happened, but what if he didn't know? Harry shook his head, brushing aside the concern. Snape did not need his concern.

Which brought up another question. Did Dumbledore know all this time? Was it just one more secret he had kept from him? And if Snape knew, what about when he was in school with his father?

Feeling frustrated, and knowing he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the journal without answers, he sneaked down the stairs, careful to avoid the ones he knew squeaked. He didn't want to answer any questions about where he was going. Hoping everyone was still in the kitchen, he crept towards the fireplace and grabbed a handful of the powder.

He stepped into the fireplace and thought for a moment before calling out, "Three Broomsticks!" Harry closed his eyes tightly as he spun through the Floo system, unable to watch the passing fireplaces anymore than he normally could. Finally the spinning began to slow and he found himself heading down towards one of the fireplaces and tumbled out into the main room in the Three Broomsticks.

Harry winced and stood, brushing ash off his clothes. He adjusted his glasses; thankful they hadn't broken again – that would have been more embarrassing. The pub was almost empty, but Harry suspected that was only because it was an odd time to Floo in. Madam Rosmerta watched him as he crossed the room, and he waved sheepishly before disappearing out the door.

The walk up the road to Hogwarts felt longer than usual. Harry got to the gates and pushed against them, tired and annoyed that he still couldn't Apparate. He strode up the path leading to the main doors and for once he wasn't surprised, amazed, stunned or any other word of the sort, to see Dumbledore standing on the steps waiting for him.

"Did you know? About this whole inheritance, royalty and everything else that comes with it? Does Snape know?" Harry asked, too irritated to even bother saying hello.

"Yes, I knew." Harry balked. Dumbledore had answered so serenely that for a second Harry wondered if he had imagined the answer, but then the old man had to continue: "As does Severus."

"And nobody told me because...?" Harry asked.

"Harry," Dumbledore started, but Harry cut him off.

"No, tell me the truth. This is...this is bigger, bigger than the damned prophecy ever was, bigger than anything you've ever told me! Why did you hide this from me?"

"Because it was the one thing that could wait, and one less thing that Voldemort could use to his advantage," Dumbledore said calmly. "If Voldemort had known of Severus' connection with you we would have lost our best source of information."

Harry ran a hand through his hair multiple times as he put his thoughts in order. "And Snape knows about all of this?"

"He does," Dumbledore agreed. "He has known since he was a child that he had a responsibility to uphold. Unfortunately, he tried to escape that responsibility, but ultimately he did everything he could when he realized your parents were in danger. Sadly, it was not enough to save them."

"He tried to--"

"He tried to save your parents, and you, but he arrived too late. You have to remember Harry, at that time he was not in Voldemort's inner circle. He had no idea of Voldemort's plan that night."

"Did my dad know? About Snape?"

"No, I don't believe so. He never had the time to go through all your family's vault. I'm sure he believed he had plenty of time to do so, and with everything happening at the time it was not a priority."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Oh." He rubbed his neck uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about showing up like this...and hello, Headmaster."

Dumbledore smiled. "Hello, Harry, it's nice to see you. Would you care for tea before you return to the Burrow?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "That'd be nice."

Dumbledore stood back, allowing Harry to enter the castle.

"Wow, it's so...silent with everyone gone," Harry said, and realized he was whispering.

"Does it disturb you at all? I'm certain I can find a certain painting of a knight who would gladly have a chat."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I'd rather you didn't, but thanks for the offer, sir."

"It always takes some getting used to after a busy year of students, but I've come to cherish the quiet times. The ghosts become more active as well, yet Peeves seems to keep to himself. I have a theory that he spends that time thinking up new tricks to play on the next group of students."

"Is Professor Snape here, I mean, right now?"

"Hm, why do you ask, Harry?"

"I'd like to speak with him," Harry said, keeping his voice as calm and mature as he possibly could. "I have a feeling he knows more about my family history than I do, and I'm curious about a few things."

"He is a very busy man, Harry. Too busy at times. Might I suggest you take tea with him instead. I'm sure he could use the break."

Harry had expected more a fight. "Um, yes, that would be fine; if you think he wouldn't mind being interrupted." By me, the bane of his existence.

"He needs to take a break," Dumbledore insisted with more authority than Harry had anticipated.

"Oh, all right," Harry said awkwardly. But if Snape was going to get cranky at him for interrupting him, he wasn't sure he wanted to stay for tea.

"I wouldn't worry yourself, Harry. He's been expecting this conversation to occur for weeks now."

"All right." Harry was nervous. He knew he would have to confront Snape at some point, but now that he wasn't feeling angry and indignant, he wasn't sure what to say.

When they reached the break off to the stairs and dungeons, Dumbledore gave Harry a gentle push towards the latter.

"Go on, but do stop by before you leave. I have something for you. It is your birthday, after all."

"You're not coming with me?" Harry asked, surprised. It was one thing to face Snape with Dumbledore there, but alone was something altogether different.

Dumbledore laid a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder and the young man swallowed. Nerves which he hadn't felt once today attacked him with a vengeance and he wondered if it was too late to run away and pretend that he hadn't shown up at Hogwarts at all.

"There are some things that you two need to discuss. It would be a crime if I was there to interfere. No, this, I'm afraid, is something you and Severus need to discuss in private."

Harry took in Dumbledore's serious tone and almost collapsed in a pile in the corridor. He really had no idea how to respond to that. If he didn't know how important this conversation would end up being, he'd run like a little girl. He had to face Snape, the dungeon monster, in the middle of summer break, on his birthday no less, and probably receive the worse dressing down he had ever had the displeasure to listen to.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, feeling defeated. "I'll come by before I leave. What's the sweet of choice this week?"

Dumbledore smiled and Harry felt some tension drain away as the man answered, "Curly Wurly."

"You're on a bit of a chocolate fix this year, if you don't mind me commenting, sir."

"Ah, it is my other favorite sweet," Dumbledore said smiling. "And I needed something softer, my teeth aren't getting any younger, you know." Dumbledore winked. "Off you go now."

Harry smiled. It was all he could do, and headed off down into the dungeons. Why did he have to do this on his own birthday? He was so stupid to think that he'd get out of having a conversation with Snape if he showed up at the castle unannounced. And just how did Dumbledore know he was coming? It wasn't like he had told anyone in the split second it had taken to decide he was going to go to Hogwarts that day.

His steps slowed as he reached the narrow corridor and he realized he had absolutely no idea where Snape's quarters were. That was just perfect.

Not knowing where else to go, Harry wandered down the hallway toward Snape's office, hoping he was there. He didn't fancy waiting around in the dungeons for Snape to walk by.

As he passed the Potions classroom, he heard a loud banging noise. Stopping, he turned and went back and popped his head inside the door. Snape was bent over a cauldron, scrubbing it and muttering to himself.

"Professor?"

Snape's head snapped up. He scowled at Harry for a moment before going back to scrubbing the cauldron. "I take it you were more curious than your father," he said irritably

Harry bristled and entered the classroom. It was all he could do not to snap back. "I suppose so, yes."

"I will not be your lapdog, Potter," Snape growled, scrubbing the cauldron harder.

"I never asked you to be."

"You must be planning to use it against me somehow," Snape said, tossing the scrubbing brush into the cauldron. "I'd just as soon know now."

"I didn't even know until this evening. What could I have possibly thought up since then?" Harry asked, insulted. He might hate Snape – all right, not hate, but dislike strongly, but even if he did hate Snape he wouldn't lord himself over the man, even if it could be construed as the same actions Snape had been employing on him for years. Harry liked to think he wasn't that cruel.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I don't understand it. The vow. I don't get it."

"Our ancestors, in their infinite stupidity, saw fit to bind themselves to each other and their progeny for the duration of their mutual lives," Snape answered, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes, but--"

"But what, Potter. What don't you understand still?"

Harry shifted. "Is it possible to revoke it?"

Snape snorted. "We are bound by blood and magic; there is no revoking it, Potter."

"Shit. I don't want you to keep thinking I'm going to make you do things for me. How would that be any different than when I didn't know?" Harry demanded, moving the rest of the way across the classroom. "Is it just because I know now that you'd feel compelled to do what I say?"

"As I said, I will never be your lapdog, Potter," Snape hissed dangerously.

"And as I said, I don't want you to be!"

"Then we have nothing to discuss," Snape replied, turning back to his cauldron.

Harry growled. "Like hell we don't!"

Snape ignored him, focusing all of his irritation and anger on the cauldron that was, for all intents and purposes, perfectly clean now.

He sank into a bench towards the middle of the room, running a hand down the side of his face. "How can you just ignore this?"

"Ignore this?" Snape repeated, whirling on Harry. "How can I ignore it, when I seemed to have spent most of my life doing my bloody duty? Your idiot father died and I was unable to stop it. It should have killed me as well, but I was allowed to live to protect you, his equally idiotic son! No, Potter, I have not 'ignored' this."

Harry bit his lip and bowed his head. "Is that all the vow makes you do? Wish to protect my family?"

"There wasn't only one vow made between our families, you idiotic little sod."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "There were more?"

"Yes, but at the moment it doesn't concern you," Snape hedged, not wishing to speak of that particular aspect unless he absolutely had to. Which at some point, he would have to, but Merlin, he didn't want to.

"At the moment…" Harry repeated, not liking the sound of that at all.

"We'll discuss it later should the need arise," Snape said, still scowling.

Harry sighed and folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on his arms. "Hey, professor?"

"What?"

"Do you stay here all summer?" Not what he had meant to ask, but it was too late to take it back; plus, if he were honest with himself, he was very curious about that.

"No, I have a home of my own," Snape answered, obviously thrown by the question. "The Headmaster is gracious enough to allow me use of the labs, however."

"Ah." Harry watched as Snape continued to scrub the one cauldron. "Need any help?"

"You're offering to scrub cauldrons?" His eyes narrowed. "What are you up to, Potter?"

"Nothing!" Harry started defensively. "I just wondered if you need any help."

"I'm about to start on a delicate potion, the cauldron must be immaculate. If it's not, things could go very wrong. Do you really want that responsibility?" Snape asked darkly.

Harry shrugged. "It's just cleaning the already clean cauldron."

Snape thought for a moment in silence before nodding. "All right. Bring it through there when you're done." Snape pointed at the door and waited for Harry to nod before going through the door himself to begin preparing ingredients.

Harry was struggling with himself as he picked up the rag and the cleaner. Why was he doing this again? Why had he offered? He was clearly insane. It was his birthday and here he was opting to spend quality time with an inky black cauldron.

Snape sliced the frog liver in slices so thin you could practically see through them. He had desperately hoped Potter would be as uninterested as his father had been when he received his inheritance. But of course, the brat had to go and actually read for the first time in his life.

Snape's knife slipped and he hissed, putting his finger to his mouth. "Damn it," he muttered, banishing the frog liver. He couldn't take the chance that his blood may have contaminated it. He cast a quick healing spell on his finger, reached for the jar of frog livers and plucked one out.

He forced his mind away from Potter, focusing on the soothing and rhythmic motion of slicing.

"Are you all right, sir?" Harry asked, pushing the cauldron into the room. The thing weighed a ton, he swore. Either that or Snape had charmed it so it was heavier than normal, just to spite him.

"Fine," Snape snapped, reaching for the jar of dried bat blood. "Are you certain it's clean?" he asked, not bothering to look up.

"Yes, sir."

"Feel free to leave," Snape told him, carefully measuring out the dried blood.

Harry stayed in the doorway, frowning. "Do you really hate me that much?"

"I never said I hated you," Snape answered, tapping the spoon to even out the measurement.

"You certainly act like you do," Harry muttered, glancing around the sparse room.

Snape sighed and poured the dried blood into a smaller cauldron. "You can't just stand there and watch me work. It's unnatural."

"I'll go then." Harry turned and paused at the doorway. "Sir?"

Snape braced his hands on the counter top. "What is it, Potter?"

"Thank you for being straight with me. About the vow." Harry grinned crookedly and then ducked out of the room.

Snape waited until he was sure Harry was gone and then sat heavily on his stool. He wondered if holding back information could be construed as being straight. He had at least told the boy there was more to it, so he couldn't be called a liar. Somehow, he thought that once Potter knew the truth he would call him one anyway.


	5. Chapter Four

**Co-written with Stormypup**

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Harry arrived back at the Burrow after having the tea he was supposed to have had with Snape with the headmaster instead. He slunk in the backdoor, hoping no one would be in the kitchen. As it turned out everyone was in the kitchen.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!"

Harry stumbled backwards. "Er, thanks," he said, unsure of what to say.

With a ridiculous grin, Ron clapped him on the back. "Come on mate, all that hard work. You didn't think we'd just forget, did you?"

"Well, you lot already had enough going on, with the wedding and all," Harry said, allowing Ron to lead him into the kitchen.

"Don't be silly," Molly told him, kissing Harry on the cheek.

Harry grinned sheepishly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassed pleasure. This made up for spending the last hour scrubbing an already clean cauldron. He wished he knew why he had done so in the first place. It wasn't like he owed Snape anything. Well, maybe that was a lie, but he wasn't going to dwell on it.

Ron forced him down into a chair with a smile and clap on the back. "It is your birthday, you know. Act happier."

"I just spent an hour in Snape's company, Ron."

Molly sighed heavily as she set out a pile of small plates and some silverware. "That man works far too hard for his age."

Ron rolled his eyes, sitting beside Harry. "You'd think by the way mum talks about him that he was a god or something," Ron muttered, down at the tablecloth.

Harry snorted. "He's definitely 'or something'."

"Behave yourselves," Molly warned. "Professor Snape did invaluable work for the Order. I hope beef stew is alright for dinner, Harry."

"Don't forget the cake mum," Ron said, grinning. "In fact, it's his birthday; let him have cake for dinner. And since we wouldn't want him to feel awkward, I'd be happy to eat cake with him."

"Nice try, Ron," Molly said, ladling up stew for everyone.

"It smells delicious, Molly, thank you," Hermione said, smiling at Molly.

"Yeah, thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said around a spoonful of the stew.

"So?" Hermione asked him. "What did Snape have to say about all of this?"

Harry swallowed. "He was really vague about some things. I didn't really know what to make of it, but he didn't seem as upset about it as he could have been."

"So it's true then, Snape's your...whatever. Does that mean you can give him orders and stuff?" Ron asked excitedly.

"Yes, it does, and no, it doesn't," Harry answered, before taking a large spoonful of the beef stew.

"But that's brilliant! Order him to give you an O in Potions! Heck, order him to give me an O in Potions."

"Ron, Harry can't do that!" Hermione cried, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Don't be ridiculous Ron," Molly said, shaking her head. "Harry's not going to start ordering Professor Snape around. Are you?"

Harry glared at Ron because he certainly couldn't glare at Mrs. Weasley. He shook his head, settling for looking churlish instead. Honestly, what did these people take him for?

"Good boy," Molly said, as if he were a child. "Oh, I almost forgot! Remus had to run an errand for the Order, but he'll be back in a few days. He says he wants to talk to you as soon as he gets back."

"He left?"

"Yes, he got a note just after you left and had to leave," Hermione said. "He felt bad about just up and leaving you like that. But when he went upstairs to talk to you, you were gone."

Harry tapped the inside of his bowl with his spoon for a couple of seconds. "He said he'd be back though, eventually?"

"He was certain it wouldn't be longer than three days, and he could possibly get back earlier," Molly said soothingly.

Harry sighed. There wasn't anything he could do about that. "This is really nice, Mrs. Weasley," he told her, gesturing at his bowl.

"My pleasure, dear," she answered, smiling. "Ginny, pass the bread please."

Harry listened to the pleasant buzz of conversation around him, answering when he was asked questions or when he felt the need to add something. In the meantime though, his thoughts meandered back to the afternoon with Snape. Things might have gone a lot worse than they had; they had practically been civil to one another. As perplexing as that thought was, it bothered him very little. While he and Snape had never been on the greatest terms, recently at least they had been getting along as best they could, which meant very few insults and even less yelling. Harry suspected if he told Hermione that she'd claim he was growing up.

Hours later, Harry waited until Ron was asleep, before opening the journal to read by wand light. He didn't want to answer any more questions about the whole thing, so he'd put off reading until he could be alone. He quickly skimmed the pages until he found the last entry he'd read.

_**August 1569**_

_I don't understand what happened. Why wasn't I informed? My head feels ready to burst with all the new knowledge I gained today. A plot on my life was uncovered today, but I suspect people knew about it long before then._

_**August 1569**_

_Thelonious and I fought again today. Why he would think I had no need to know about the people wanting me dead is beyond me. He is the one person I trust completely, and yet he hid this from me. If I were still the Prince, and not the King, would he still have kept it from me?_

_**August 1569**_

_I know this is unprecedented, two entries in the same day, but I must put down in words what I've feared to say out loud. I love him. Perhaps those attempts on my life have addled my brain, but I went after Thelonious. I just could not let him leave without explaining himself, and I am so glad I followed that urge._

_He was scared. If I had not seen the haunted look in his eyes when I went to his room I never would have known. I have to wonder though. Does he? Does he feel the same way I do? I do not dare ask for fear of being laughed at._

_**September 1569**_

_I asked and received the answer I both feared and hoped for._

Harry blinked and gnawed on his lower lip as he stared down at the faded ink. He still wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that his ancestor was clearly engaged in a relationship with a man, behind his wife's back no less. It didn't make him nauseous to think about like he supposed it should. Any totally straight man would have flung the book across the room at the first hinting that there was more to Carlisle and Thelonious' relationship than that of simple friendship; or Ron would.

Harry hadn't.

He kept reading.

_**October 1569**_

_The weather is beginning to turn cool. Jamie loves to play with the orange colored leaves. We've retired to the Manor for the remainder of the week. On Sunday, Thelonious and I will return to the castle, and Helena and Jamie will stay on until the end of the month. I shall miss them both, particularly Jamie. He's growing by leaps and bounds, too quickly for his parents' liking. Unfortunately, the Prince refuses to obey the Royal Command to cease and desist._

_**October 1569**_

_I do believe that was the first time this year I've heard Thelonious laugh. I just wish it hadn't been at the expense of my dignity._

_**November 1569**_

_I think I just seduced Thelonious. Merlin help me, but it was brilliant._

_**November 1569**_

_I see there is senseless drivel about me in here and feel the need to point out that Carlisle needs to work on his skills in seduction. It is supposed to be subtle, not brash. My hips do not approve of the bruises forming there._

_**November 1569**_

_Let the record show that Thelonious is a prat, but shall be forgiven as long as he continues to use his mouth in such a talented… oh, sweet Merlin! that's amazing…_

The words trailed off with a scribble.

Harry's face was flushed; he could feel the heat of his cheeks without even touching them. That was a little bit too much information about his and Snape's ancestors.

_**December 1569**_

_I shall never forget the look on Jamie's face as he sat upon his first pony. Helena insisted he was too young, but he had Thelonious standing next to him, holding him securely on the saddle. I don't remember a happier Christmas._

_**January 1570**_

_I feel this will be a most remarkable year. There is a fresh covering of snow upon the grounds and Jamie is getting into everything. I cannot believe he will be two this year. He is thrilled by absolutely everything around him and I love him more each day._

_Gretchen is with child. She keeps looking at me with this little smug smile that I wish I could take off her face. As if she has won something that I have not. I have a son of my own. My precious Jamie. Helena seemed disgruntled by the looks too. Perhaps she can talk to Gretchen about it. I do not dare discuss the woman with Thelonious._

_He would just say I was jealous. He would be right._

_**March 1570**_

_The Muggles are stirred up once again, and it seems that there is no reasoning with them at this point. I'm meeting with their emissary tomorrow with the hope of reaching a compromise. Thelonious has added to my personal guard, and for the first time in my short tenure as King, I am thankful for this._

_**March 1570**_

_It is not just the Muggles._

_**April 1570**_

_How did it all go so horrible so quickly? Unrest had turned to open rebellion and a number of my guards were killed. I knew these men, their families. They were loyal to me, to the crown, and they have paid with their lives._

_Thelonious keeps telling me that they would be proud to have died doing their duty. Why did they have to die at all?_

_**May 1570**_

_It is Jamie's second birthday. I wish the day could have been greeted with something better than more reports of soldiers killed. He does not understand, and I am forever thankful that he is too young to understand the horrors of the world._

_**June 1570**_

_I feel like a prisoner in my own home. They may as well lock me in a cupboard for all the freedom I have. I haven't seen Thelonious for days and I worry for him with each passing hour. Losing him would be...I can't lose him._

_**June 1570**_

_Still no word from Thelonious. Gretchen can be seen in the company of Helena more and more frequently. If I would not feel horribly guilty I would try to reassure her as well. But how does one reassure someone if you are not certain yourself?_

_**June 1570**_

_Thelonious returned, battered and bloodied, but alive. If he weren't already in pain, I would be tempted to beat him about the head with a stout stick. Why must he take such chances! And he calls me the fool. Gretchen rushed to his side, of course, and I hadn't the heart to send her away, though I wanted to. Perhaps I am a fool. I wanted to crawl into the bed with him and hold him, to reassure myself that he is alive._

_**June 1570**_

_I'm weak. The moment Gretchen left I was lying beside Thelonious. I never felt more dread than I did to feel how clammy his skin was, to see the heavy rings around his eyes, the split lip, broken nose, cut chin. His torso is much worse, I know from when they brought him in, before they dressed his wounds. I cannot even look at the bandages._

_He opened his eyes as I stroked his face. He didn't seem the least bit surprised to find me in his bed; in fact, he seemed to find it amusing. I administered medicine that certainly wouldn't be approved by his healers, but he seemed to enjoy it and was able to sleep peacefully afterwards. He must get better so I can kill him for making me worry so._

Harry sighed, closing the journal. He hugged it to his chest as he stared at the ceiling of Ron's bedroom. The ghoul was unusually silent that night, which was fine by him. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever feel that way about someone. He loved Ron and Hermione, all the Weasleys really, but it didn't feel like that.

Rolling over, he tucked the journal beneath his bed, and pulled the covers up. Casting a quiet "_Nox_," the room plunged into darkness, leaving him alone with his thoughts.


	6. Chapter Five

**Co-written with Stormypup**

Beta'd by Rakina**  
**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Harry awoke to the strange sight of Snape looming over his bed. "What the hell have you done?" Snape hissed, before Harry could even process that he was there.

"What?" Harry asked stupidly.

Snape held a crumpled up copy of the Prophet in Harry's face. "As if you didn't have enough problems, now the whole world knows of your heritage!"

Harry groaned and rolled over. "I'm still asleep."

A moment later, Harry realized what had just happened.

Snape. At the Burrow. In Ron's bedroom.

He sat bolt upright. Ron was staring at him wide-eyed from the next bed, and Molly was standing in the doorway, scowling at Snape.

"Really, Severus, this could have waited," she scolded.

"No, Molly, it could not. The boy is about to be descended upon," Snape growled, tossing the paper into Harry's lap.

Harry stared down at the paper; his picture frowned up at him. The headline was...predictable, Harry decided after staring at it for what felt like minutes. "So, what do we do?"

"Gather your things, we're going to the castle to decide what to do next," Snape growled. "Excuse me," he said, brushing past Molly. "I'll be downstairs."

And just like that, Snape was gone.

Harry swung his feet off the bed and without being asked, tossed the paper over to Ron so he could read it. He reached under the bed for his bag and said one word as he flicked his wand. "Pack."

His clothing flew from the drawer he had been keeping it in and rushed at his bag all at once, cramming into it without regard. Harry supposed he'd have to practice that to make it better.

"This can't be good," Ron muttered as he read through the paper.

"Sorry dear, but Severus didn't want to wait," Molly said, still frowning.

"It's okay," Harry assured her. "It's probably best I go before things get ugly."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than there was a loud pounding on the door downstairs. Ron scrambled to the window and looked outside. "Blimey! There's half a dozen people out there."

"Do we know any of them?" Harry asked as he shrugged out of the shirt he had worn to bed.

"Rita Skeeter is leading the pack," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Potter!"

Snape's voice carried all too well up the stairwell, causing Harry to cringe.

"You shouldn't let him yell at you like that."

Harry looked up from his buttoning to see Ron scowling at the door. It was funny in a totally misguided sort of way. "I'd rather he yell at me then write me love sonnets."

"Ew," Ron cried, flopping onto the bed and covering his head with a pillow.

"Prat," Harry said fondly. "I guess I'll see you later then."

"You'll still come to the wedding, right?" Ron asked, rolling from the bed to his feet.

"Hope so," Harry said, glancing toward the window. He wouldn't come if it was going to make a spectacle of things.

"Things'll settle down and you can come back," Ron assured him.

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling weakly.

"Potter!"

"I'm coming!"

Harry shook his head, hitching his bag high on his shoulder. He had no idea how long he'd be gone.

"Better go before he drags you out of here," Ron warned.

Harry sighed, nodded and made his way downstairs.

Snape was pacing in agitation in front of the fireplace when Harry entered the room. "About time," Snape growled, reaching for the Floo powder.

"Hang on a minute," Harry told him scowling. He turned to Molly and smiled. "Thanks for letting me stay, and I'm sorry about the trouble," he said, motioning toward the assembled crowd outside.

"Don't you worry about it, dear," Molly said, hugging Harry tightly. "You know you're always welcome."

"Tell Arthur thanks for me too."

"Potter!"

"I'm coming!" Harry snapped at Snape.

"Of course you're coming, get in the Floo." Snape shoved some of the grainy powder into his hands.

Harry rolled his eyes but took the Floo powder and tossed it into the fire. "Hogwarts!" he cried, stepping into the flame.

"Idiot boy, he'll come out in the kitchen," Snape grumbled, nodding stiffly to Molly, before he too disappeared into the Floo system.

Snape indeed found Harry in the kitchens, sitting at a table calmly eating a muffin.

"I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously," he groused, scowling at Harry.

"I'm hungry. That happens when one is rudely woken at the break of dawn then forced to take the Floo."

"Dawn was hours ago, you twit," Snape informed him, sitting across the table from Harry.

"Can Inky get you something, Professor Snape, sir?" a House Elf asked, appearing at Snape's elbow.

"Tea."

A moment later, a tea tray appeared before him.

"Will that be all, si-"

"Yes, go," Snape snapped.

Harry frowned. "You don't have to be so rude to them."

Snape looked at Harry, curiously.

Harry stared down at his half eaten muffin, embarrassed. "What?" he mumbled, picking at his breakfast.

"Champion of house elves now? I thought that was Granger's job," Snape said, an amused quirk to his lip.

"She sort of has a way of making you do things you don't want to..."

"How did the Prophet learn of your inheritance?" Snape asked, changing gears quickly.

"Not from me, that's for sure." Harry eyed him across the table and dismissed the notion right away. "And it wasn't you either."

"Don't be ridiculous. If I had my way, you wouldn't even know about your inheritance."

"I did say not you either."

"Regardless, the secret is out. Do you know what this means?" Snape asked, leaning forward and looking at Harry intently.

"I'm fucked?"

Snape snorted. "That sums it up, if rather crudely. You've got decisions to make."

"Do I have to?" Harry popped a bit of the blueberry muffin into his mouth. "Wasn't saving the world enough?"

"No, because now they're afraid you're going to want to run the world, and with your current popularity it is a valid fear."

"Why would I want to rule the world?"

"Because you can," Snape said simply.

"Daft reason," Harry muttered, finishing off the muffin.

"Then I take it you have no desire to reinstate yourself as King and overthrow the Ministry of Magic?"

Harry's eyes widened. Was Snape serious? "No! I rather want to go and live in a cottage in the woods, maybe plant a vegetable garden and stay there until everyone forgets about me."

"At least you have some sense," Snape told him, smirking. "There are going to be those who will want you to take your position as King, and there are no doubt any number of women who wish to be your Queen. Any number of men, for that matter."

"But I don't want the bloody throne! They can take it! Let Malfoy be the bloody ponce he is and take over. Maybe he'll make it a mandate that we all dress to a certain code only he knows about!"

Snape frowned. "I'm sure you'll be getting a summons from the Ministry soon, wishing to know your intentions. You need to be prepared, and unfortunately, the task of preparing you falls to me."

"Is it too early in the morning to get pissed?"

"You're actually amusing me this morning, Potter. Will wonders never cease," Snape deadpanned, his face expressionless.

"Maybe the elves laced the muffin with something," Harry supplied helpfully.

Snape merely arched his brow in response.

"Inky!" he shouted, and the house elf appeared at his elbow.

"Yes, Professor Snape, sir?" the elf asked, cowering slightly.

"I need parchment, quill and an inkwell." He looked at Harry, who was scowling at him. "Please," he added, a look of disdain on his face.

Harry grinned. "And get me another one of these muffins, and get him one of these muffins too, please."

The elf bobbed its head quickly and then scurried away.

Snape rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You're going to draft a letter to the Ministry assuring them that you have no plans to assert your claim as king. It won't matter; there will be others pressing you to do so, but at least you'll be on the record. Hopefully it will allow you to stay out of the Ministry, and the public eye, until things settle down."

"If things settle down," Harry mumbled, thinking about the crowd that had been gathering outside the Burrow. No one was supposed to know he was there.

"Perhaps by the time you graduate," Snape said, smirking.

"Wouldn't people get more worried once I am free of the restrictions of the school?"

"Possibly," Snape agreed. "But they'll have a year of getting used to the idea that there is a member of the old monarchy still alive."

The house elf appeared with muffins and parchment, setting them on the table before summoning a quill and ink. Bowing to Snape, he disappeared.

"I'm warning you, I'm absolute shit at letter writing; ask anyone." Harry toyed with the muffin in front of him rolling it back and forth on the table. "Anytime I try and write a reassuring letter I just get more people riled up."

"Which is why I'll dictate the letter to you," Snape replied.

"That seems sincere." Harry picked up the quill and pulled the parchment towards him. He dipped the nib of the quill into the inkwell, and then poised the quill over the parchment. "All right, Professor, dictate away."

Ten minutes later, they had written a letter to the Ministry and to the press, both saying the same thing. Harry wasn't interested. He groaned softly. "Are you sure it's too early to get pissed?"

"You're too young to be getting pissed," Snape admonished. "Though there is nothing to say I cannot."

"I am not!" Harry stated feeling mulish.

"Inky!"

The house elf reappeared with a pop and Snape handed him the two parchments. "Send these off immediately."

Harry didn't even ask for the firewhisky he sorely wanted.

"In the meantime, don't leave the castle. The only other place you'll be left alone is your manor, but I doubt it's fit for human habitation."

"So I do have a manor?" Harry wasn't sure why he was even asking any more.

"Yes. I'm sure the Headmaster would allow you to send some of the house elves to have it cleaned."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Don't you?" Snape asked.

"Should I?"

Snape frowned. "I suppose not."

Harry grinned. "Does that mean you do or don't know where it is?"

"Yes, I learned of its location earlier this week." Snape had to actually search through the family documents to find the location of the house. It had never mattered before now.

"So tell me, Professor. Do I happen to own an entire county?"

"Yes and no. The original boundaries of the county have drastically changed, so it's more accurate to say you own several estates."

Harry scratched his chin as he stared across the crowded kitchen. "And they're all in disrepair?"

"For the most part. Your residence was, of course, hidden to the Muggles, so it's done nothing but gather dust."

"I've faced worse things than dust before, unless dust bunnies are real and vicious." He wrinkled his nose. "Would you take me?"

"I have things to do today. Perhaps this afternoon I'll have the time," Snape said, pushing back from the table and getting to his feet.

Harry nodded, picking up one of the muffins. He held it between two fingers for a moment before he tossed it to Snape. "Here, Dumbledore told me last time you don't take breaks."

Snape caught the muffin and scowled at Harry. "My eating habits are no one's business but my own," he said, setting the muffin back on the table.

Harry said nothing in reply.

"Find me this afternoon," Snape said, nodding curtly and leaving the kitchens.

Harry waited until the painting slid shut. "Inky?"

"Yes sir, Mr Potter, sir?" The Elf asked, appearing at his elbow.

"Take the muffin down to Professor Snape along with a tea service, please."


	7. Chapter Six

**Co-written with Stormypups**

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Six**

"It's huge," Harry said, staring at Potter Manor and feeling overwhelmed.

Snape sneered and shook his head. "What were you expecting, a hovel?"

"I don't know, but I wasn't expecting this," Harry said, motioning to the large house. For the first time it really hit him what this all meant. He sat down on the ground and buried his head in his hands. "I don't suppose you want it," he asked, looking up at Snape.

"Oh, get up."

"No."

Snape grabbed him by his t-shirt and hauled him to his feet. "Stop acting like a petulant child."

Harry glared at him and sighed. "I really wish you had been having me on."

"Do you plan on going inside, or were you going to continue having the vapors like some 19th century woman?" Snape asked, giving Harry a little shake and releasing him. "I do have other things I could be doing."

"Sorry, let's go." Harry folded his arms across his chest as he headed up the winding path towards his family's home.

"Is there a key or something?" Harry asked after an aborted attempt at opening the door.

"Place your hand against the door, it will recognize the heir," Snape informed him.

Harry looked skeptical, but did as he was told. He placed his palm flush up against the cracked and peeling paint of the front door. A sharp shock raced through his hand and he yelped.

A moment later, a lock clicked and the door opened. Harry glanced over his shoulder at Snape, who was watching him passively, his face expressionless. Steeling himself, Harry stepped inside.

It was dark. Harry squinted into the musty interior, his nostrils twitching as dust assaulted them and he sneezed, once, twice and groaned.

"I did warn you it would need cleaning," Snape said from the doorway, obviously amused.

"I didn' know I had a dus' all'gy," Harry admitted, rubbing his dripping nose.

Snape waved his wand, removing the majority of the dust. "One would think you weren't a wizard, Potter."

Harry groaned. "I grew up with Muggles."

"That doesn't mean you should neglect the basics," Snape argued.

"I don't know the basics," Harry protested, pulling out his wand and casting Lumos.

"I know the concept is foreign to you, but perhaps you should try reading a book," Snape replied, casting Lumos as well.

"When did I have a chance to read books on housekeeping charms since I started school?"

"You had a summer break, did you not?" Snape held his wand up higher to examine a tapestry on the wall.

Harry rolled his eyes as they wandered through the entrance hall. "Lived with Muggles."

"No excuse. Don't go upstairs without checking the steps themselves."

"Muggles that hated magic," Harry continued as they slowly walked towards the stairs.

"You're still making excuses. What in the name of Merlin is that?"

Harry glanced up at Snape in confusion. "What's what?"

"That!" Snape said, raising his wand to light up the nearby wall.

"A wall," Harry supplied, still not seeing what had got Snape's knickers in a twist.

"Higher up, idiot. There," he said, pointing to a portrait and the occupant who was peering at them from the edge of the frame.

Harry grinned, biting the inside of his cheek. "Ah...Snape, it's just a portrait."

"Obviously," Snape growled. "But what is it a portrait of?"

"A person?"

Whoever was peeking around the edge of the frame, disappeared completely. "Forget it," Snape muttered, though he kept glancing at the portrait.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, touching Snape's arm gently.

Snape shrugged Harry off. "I'm fine. Have you seen enough? You may as well wait until it's been cleaned before exploring. I'm sure some basic repairs will be required as well."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, sure." His gaze flicked over to the portrait on the wall, trying to see what had startled Snape so badly, but it was still an empty canvas.

When they Apparated back to the gates of the castle, it was to land in the middle of a group of people who all started calling to Harry.

"Oh, bugger off," Snape muttered, grabbing Harry by the back of his shirt and shoving him through the crowd and though the gates, which he slammed with a loud clang.

"Hey, Professor, I have a question," Harry began.

"Save it," Snape said, glaring over his shoulder at the growing mass of people outside the gate. "Who knows what spells they are using to listen in?"

When they reached the castle, Albus was standing on the steps, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "Severus. Your Majesty," he said, smiling as he bowed to Harry.

Harry scowled and almost looked ready to stomp his foot in irritation. "Please don't you start too."

"I'm sorry, my boy, I couldn't resist," Dumbledore said, smiling brightly. His gaze turned to the far-off gates. "I had hoped it would take them longer to realize you were here. Don't worry, the press isn't allowed on the grounds, after all, school is not in session."

"They're allowed on when school is!"

"The Ministry and the School Board require the school to be open to the press in most cases, but I find the right word in the right ear will remedy the situation. Unfortunately, this is a public school and thus the public must have some degree of access."

"Do you have a time turner, sir?"

Dumbledore chuckled and Snape scowled.

Harry turned his scowl onto Snape, "Remember that conversation this morning about getting pissed?"

"I'm sure the Headmaster would join you in a drink, though I must warn you he sings when he's inebriated. Badly."

Harry blinked. "You mean you'll actually let me this time?"

Snape sighed. "You're of age, I cannot stop you, and at the moment I can see no reason to do so. Headmaster, would you care for a drink?"

"No, not this time I'm afraid. You two boys go and enjoy yourself."

Snape glared at Harry for a moment. "Come along then, Potter," Snape said, and entered the castle, expecting Harry to follow.

Harry hurried after him, sending Dumbledore a small smile and a wave as he did so.

Harry followed Snape through the corridors. He couldn't help but notice the sound of Snape's boots against the stone floor and idly wondered how on earth the man was able to sneak up on people so easily.

"Can I ask my question now?"

"If you must," Snape replied, flinging open a door with his wand and passing through the doorway.

"How am I supposed to get my supplies for the upcoming term if I can't even leave the castle without being hounded?"

"Send in an order by owl," Snape answered, looking at Harry as if he were an idiot.

"You can do that?" Harry asked in surprise and then flushed. "Don't answer that."

Harry was surprised when they entered the room in which the teachers usually spent their time between classes. He looked around in interest, but found nothing very exciting about the room. A few comfortable chairs, a table, and a large cabinet on the far wall.

Snape was pulling glasses and a bottle of amber liquid from said cabinet.

"Is it a habit of the staff's to get drunk regularly?"

"Have you ever seen Trelawney sober?" Snape asked, setting the glasses on the table.

Harry watched as Snape poured the alcohol and took a glass off the table. "I rather imagined she was high on the fumes from her incense, not drunk."

"No reason it can't be both," Snape said, taking a glass and tossing it back quickly and refilling his glass before sitting down. He swirled the amber liquid, watching the play of colors across the surface.

Harry snorted, taking the smallest sip of his drink.

Snape sipped his drink, watching Harry carefully for a moment before leaning his head against the back of his chair. How had he sunk to this? Was this what his life had become? Getting pissed with Harry Potter?

Harry took another hesitant sip, taking enough that he actually had to swallow some this time and it didn't just sink into his tongue. "What is this?"

"Cognac," Snape answered. "It's a type of Brandy. If you were hoping for something like beer, you're out of luck."

"It's fine," Harry stated, taking another sip. "I'm just not used to it, that's all."

"Do you really intend to get drunk?" Snape asked curiously.

"I don't know yet," Harry admitted, toying with the glass. "Seems like a brilliant plan in theory."

"Until you wake up with a blinding headache and a mouth full of cotton," Snape replied, scowling.

"Don't you have a remedy for that?"

Snape smirked. "I do. You, however, do not."

Harry frowned down at his glass of barely drank alcohol. "You could be nice and share."

"If you're going to do something foolish, you've got to be willing to pay the consequences," Snape said, setting his glass on the table.

"You suck the fun out of everything," Harry grumbled.

Snape had no answer.

An hour later and with three glasses of whatever it was Snape was plying him with, Harry suddenly didn't think his troubles were all that bad.

"Did you know that Carlisle and Thelonious," Harry mashed his fingers together instead of forming the rest of the sentence.

Snape blinked tiredly. "What are you talking about?" he asked, pleased that his voice wasn't slurring.

Harry grunted. "You know they were-" he mashed his fingers together again with a bit more force, "together."

"As in sexually?" Snape asked, brow arched. "Not surprising. Does it bother you?" If so, you're in for a rude awakening.

"No, and it should, shouldn't it?" Harry's head felt fuzzy. "I mean...I told Ron and he about vomited into his porridge."

"Imbecile," Snape muttered, and Harry wasn't sure if he meant him or Ron. "There is no reason it should bother you. Have you never entertained a fantasy about one of your male schoolmates?" Snape knew he should drop the subject, but the alcohol was obviously numbing his good sense.

Harry shrugged. "Seamus, Zabini, Malfoy – that was a good one until I realized what I was doing."

Malfoy?

"Then why would it bother you that two men acted upon their urges?" Before he could stop the next words, he had already said them aloud. "Rumor has it that Malfoy is rubbish in bed."

Snape blinked stupidly for a moment, then glared at his empty glass.

Harry sniggered, almost choking on the sip he had just taken of his own drink.

"Remind me to _Obliviate_ you later," Snape muttered, pouring himself another glass.

"See I told you, you suck all the fun out of everything. You just gave me great blackmail material."

"Now that news of your title has reached the press, I think you can be assured that Malfoy will be the first in line of those trying woo you," Snape said, snorting with amusement. That might actually be amusing to watch.

Unless Harry took him up on it. Or anyone else for that matter. Snape's amusement turned to irritation.

"_Woo_ me?" Harry repeated, distaste scrawled all over his face. "Isn't that word not even a part of the common dictionary anymore?"

"Just because a word has gone out of style does not make it less of a word," Snape said, though he wasn't certain that his sentence had made any sense. "Would you prefer it if I said he was going to attempt to shag you rotten?"

"Please no."

"Any student over the age of fourteen is going to be after you, you do realize that, don't you? You are now the most eligible wizard in school. How are you going to handle it?"

"Can I hide in the dungeons like you?"

Snape snorted. "According to the stories, you belong in the tower, not the dungeons."

"I'm not a bloody princess." Harry slumped back into the squishy armchair. "And why would anyone want to marry me?"

"If you're looking for someone to list the things that make you attractive, you've come to the wrong person."

"Yes, well, if you did start listing my attractive qualities I'd wonder what you had been drinking or maybe smoking, or possibly some really scary combination of both."

"I'll not share my stash with you, don't even ask," Snape warned. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Definitely need to _Obliviate_ you."

"You have a stash?" Harry's eyes were practically glittering.

"No," Snape answered, frowning at Harry. "Promise me now that nothing said in this room goes any further, or I will _Obliviate_ you."

Harry nodded. "Who'd believe me if I told them?"

"Say the words, Potter," Snape hissed, leaning forward in his chair.

"I promise!"

Snape nodded curtly and sat back in his chair.

"So you really have a stash?"

"I'm a Potions Master, Potter, what did you expect?"

Harry laughed. "That you don't have pot hidden amongst your stores of ingredients. You know if someone broke into your private stores and found that..."

"You broke into my stores and you didn't find it," Snape returned, his lips curled into a sneer.

"I did not!" Harry cried, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "I never once broke into your stores."

"Second year, the ingredients needed for Polyjuice Potion. Fourth year, Gillyweed. Merlin knows what I don't know about yet."

"Second year, Hermione stole them so we could spy on Malfoy," Harry shot back, not caring that he was indicting one of his best friends. "Fourth year, Dobby."

Snape eyed Harry warily for a long moment, then nodded. "Do not go looking for my 'stash', or you will be spending the bulk of your seventh year in detention."

"Why go look for it when I can just pester you at every turn to play nice with the other children and share it with me?" Harry set his empty glass on the table and stood up. "Any idea what time it is?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Snape admitted, realizing that it didn't bother him in the least. The time spent with Potter had been actually pleasant, for the most part, which was surprising in itself. He also knew that now the press had hold of things he wasn't likely to get another moment of peace any time soon.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, stumbling a bit as he made to cross the room. "Where am I supposed to stay tonight?"

"Wherever you bloody well want to, I imagine," Snape answered, pouring himself another glass of brandy.

Harry watched him, trying to clear the fog from his head. "Can I stay with you?"

Snape choked on his brandy. "What on earth for?" he asked, coughing.

"'Cause," Harry answered, shrugging.

"You have the whole castle at your disposal," Snape said, looking at Harry as if he were insane. "You'll find my home sadly lacking in amenities."

"I don't want 'amenities', I want safety." Harry raked a hand through his hair. "I trust you to keep me safe."

"You are safest in the castle," Snape said, sighing. "If you wish, I will stay in residence tonight." Already, he was bending his will to King Potter. Lovely.

Harry cast his glance away at the door. "You know if the idea of staying in the same room as me overnight is so repulsive, you can just say so."

"Same room?" Snape asked. "We are not staying the same room! You can stay in my quarters, but we are not sharing a room."

"Same difference," Harry muttered. "If you don't want me there just say so!"

"There is such a thing as propriety, Potter," Snape said, frowning. "It has nothing to do with what I want, or don't want."

"Doesn't seem to stop you from keeping an illegal substance in the castle."

"You can stay in my quarters," Snape said, getting to his feet and putting the brandy away. He swayed a little and put a hand to his head, steadying himself. "I'm going to talk to Albus about sending some house elves to clean your house and make it habitable."

Harry bowed his head and nodded. "Sir, may I ask one last question?"

"What is it?"

"What was in that picture back at the manor that startled you so much?"

Snape's face went back to its expressionless mask. "Nothing at all," he said, lightly. "I'm sure you must be hungry. I'll meet you in the kitchens after I speak with the Headmaster."

Without another word, Snape left the room, leaving Harry to stare after him.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Co-written with Stormypups**

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Harry sat at the table in the kitchens, tossing an apple up into the air at irregular intervals. Snape said he'd meet him here and that had been half an hour ago. He wished the older man would hurry up already because his thoughts were rapidly turning sour. Snape was keeping him in the dark, and he didn't like it. He didn't dare push it though.

Why would Snape need to hide something from him though? Well, he thought sardonically, perhaps rephrasing that was in order. Why would Snape need to hide something about Harry from him? It didn't make sense. If it had something to do with what he had learned over the summer shouldn't he be fully informed before someone less savory managed to get a hold of the information?

* * *

"Have you told him yet?" Dumbledore asked over the rim of his teacup.

"No, I rather thought he had enough to worry about at the moment," Snape replied, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"You know the boy doesn't like to be kept in the dark," Dumbledore said. "I know that better than anyone."

"I'll speak with him soon and gauge how much he knows, and more importantly, understands."

"The sooner the better, Severus."

"Let him have one more night," Snape said. "I'm too tired to deal with his tantrum tonight."

"As you wish," Dumbledore said, nodding in agreement. "It is of course, up to your discretion."

Snape snorted, and rose to his feet. "You'll send the house elves then? If he spends the summer shut up in the castle, he's likely to do something foolish. The press will be unable to find him there."

"And what of you, Severus?"

"What of me?"

"You'll have to accompany him to the Manor," Dumbledore reminded gently.

"I haven't forgotten," Snape answered irritably. "I go from one master to another."

"I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way. Your services were invaluable during -"

"Save it, Albus. I don't need to hear the speech tonight," Snape said, waving him off. "I'll let you know when we leave tomorrow. Goodnight," Snape said, excusing himself to go in search of Harry.

* * *

Harry was lying on the bench staring at the ceiling when he heard the portrait open and close.

"If you're finished dallying, get up and I'll show you to my quarters," Snape said, frowning.

"You're going to eat something first."

Snape stared at Harry with a mix of irritation and confusion. "What is your sudden obsession with my eating habits? I assure you, I don't starve. Come along," Snape said, leaving the kitchen and expecting Harry to follow.

Harry sighed. "Dobby?"

The hyper house elf appeared by his side in an instant. "Can you prepare dinner and bring it down to Professor Snape's quarters?"

"Of course, Harry Potter sir."

"Potter!"

"I'm coming!" Harry yelled back. "Great git," he muttered, rolling to his feet. "Thanks, Dobby."

Harry hurried to catch up to Snape, not wanting to wander the Dungeons in search of his quarters.

"There is the bathroom, and that will be your room for the night," Snape said, pointing out the specified rooms. "That is my bedroom and it is off limits, as is my lab."

"As if I'd want to go near either," Harry mumbled, peering into the room Snape had designated his.

Snape stiffened, his face darkening. "See that you don't," he hissed, going to his room and slamming the door behind him.

Harry jumped as the door slammed. The sound echoed in his ears long after he sat down on the threadbare bed.

When a house elf appeared in his bedroom with a tray of food, Snape snapped at him to get out. With a loud "Eep!" the elf disappeared, leaving the tray behind. Snape angrily banished the tray. "Bloody interfering brat," he muttered to no one in particular.

Harry sat on his bed for far too long. He was not a recalcitrant child. He didn't do anything to deserve this poor treatment. Standing up, he left the very small room and strode with determination to Snape's and knocked five times before stepping back.

The door was flung open, causing Harry to take another step back. "What?" Snape snapped.

"You're sulking," Harry stated, "and reek of alcohol."

Snape slammed the door in his face.

Harry rolled his eyes and knocked again. Cheerfully, he realized he could knock on this door all night if it meant Snape came out again.

The door was thrown open again, but this time Harry didn't flinch. "If you do not cease, you can spend the remainder of the night somewhere else," Snape hissed angrily.

Harry smiled pleasantly. "Did you happen to receive our dinner?"

"If you wanted to eat, you should have done so in the kitchens."

"I was waiting for you."

"Then you'll be waiting for quite some time. Goodnight, Potter," he said, attempting to close the door.

Harry stuck his foot at the bottom of it, stopping it. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"Lovely. Can I go to bed now?" Snape asked tiredly.

Harry stepped back. He looked first at Snape's hand gripping the door and then down to the floor. "Sorry, goodnight."

The door closed once again, but at least this time, Snape didn't slam it. That was an improvement at least.

As Harry walked back towards the small bedroom he realized he still had no clue what time it was. Laughing, he snapped his fingers, calling Dobby back to bring him food and to ask the time.

"7:45? Who goes to bed at 7:45?" Harry asked, when Dobby told him the time.

"Is Harry Potter wanting anything else?" Dobby asked, looking fearfully toward Snape's room.

A wicked idea crossed his mind. "Go and knock on Snape's door for me and say I demand his presence."

Dobby's eyes widened. "Dobby is thinking that is a bad idea, Harry Potter, sir."

"So am I," Harry told the elf. "But do it for me, please?"

Visibly trembling, Dobby went to Snape's door and knocked politely. "Professor Snape sir," Dobby called, his voice cracking. "Harry Potter is demanding your presence, Sir."

The door was thrown open, and with a shriek, Dobby vanished, leaving Harry to deal with the irate Potions master.

"Demanding my presence, Potter?" Snape asked, eyes narrowing.

Harry scratched his nose and pulled out his wand, summoning the journal from the other room. "I didn't actually expect you to do what I said."

"Oh, I think you did," Snape hissed. "You wanted to see if I would obey your orders and now you know. What will you have me do now, Potter? Dance for your enjoyment or have you some other way to humiliate me?"

"Yes, Snape, I want to see you dance." Harry rolled his eyes, and began flipping through the pages of the journal. His eyes flickered up to see Snape seething. "Don't make me tell you to sit down. I just want to read some of this with you, since it is in fact about your ancestor as well."

Snape's eye was twitching, and the vein in his forehead was throbbing. Teeth clenched, he sat on the edge of the sofa, but refused to look at Harry.

"I can hear you seething. Is that normal?" Harry asked as he continued flipping through the journal.

Snape ignored him, his hands clenching painfully in his lap.

"Still seething," Harry teased. He wondered how much prodding it would take to make Snape explode. He didn't think it'd take much more.

Snape slowly turned his head to glare at Harry. "So much like your father," he snarled, his face contorted in disgust.

Harry tensed, his teeth clenched, and his fingers curled tightly around the brittle pages of memories long forgotten. "I am not my father."

"I can only imagine how he would have lorded his heritage over the rest of us," Snape continued, lip curled in disgust. "Just as you're lording it over me now. I should be grateful, I suppose. He really would have made me dance."

"I really did just want to share this with you." Harry dropped the journal on Snape's lap. "As you so kindly point out, it's not always just about me."

Snape took the journal and idly flipped through the pages. "Fascinating," he said, tossing it back at Harry.

"Is it blank for you then? I would have thought..." Harry trailed off, staring down at the battered book.

"Thought? I had begun to wonder if you were capable," Snape said dismissively.

Harry's eyes flashed for a moment, but then he smiled. "Amazing, isn't it?"

Snape leaned back against the couch, folding his arms across his chest. "Am I done here?"

"I did mean it when I said I think you should read some of this."

"The book is blank, Potter. There is obviously some kind of privacy spell placed upon it," Snape said tiredly.

"I know...I mean I tried to get Remus to read it, but it was blank for him too, but when I was holding it he could read it clearly over my shoulder and while I had hoped it might be different for you seeing as...never mind. But what I meant was I could hold it while you read." Harry blushed and ducked his head. He hadn't babbled that badly in ages.

Sighing, Snape rose and moved to sit next to Harry. "Happy?"

Harry nodded, making a small noise in the back of his throat. "I don't know if you want to start from the beginning or...?"

"Summarize it," Snape ordered, not wanting to sit next to Potter reading into the night.

Harry bit his lip and nodded as he began to regale Snape with what had happened up to the point he had stopped reading.

By the time he was finished, Snape actually looked interested. "So we're right before the revolution," he said, tapping a finger against his chin. "Interesting. What does the next entry say?"

Harry gave Snape a lopsided grin as he flipped back open to the page where he had left off.

_**July 1570**_

_Helena had to drag me from the great hall before I strangled poor Gretchen. It is not her fault she is pregnant, nor is it her fault that her state is now visible. If I feel like this now, I wonder how Thelonious felt two years prior to this._

"Helena, wife of the King. Gretchen, wife of Thelonious," Snape said aloud, getting the characters straight in his head. "And jealousy rears its ugly head," Snape finished, amused.

"It seems to be a recurring theme," Harry added, "for both Carlisle and Thelonious. They seem to take turns with it."

"It must have been difficult, having a mate, but being tied with another," Snape said softly.

Harry snorted. "That's an odd thing to call someone's wife. Mate."

"No, you misunderstand me. Thelonious was Carlisle's mate; their wives were merely that, wives."

Harry nodded slowly as he tried to wrap his brain around the concept. "I suppose that makes sense."

Snape studied Harry through narrowed eyes. "Do you understand it? Honestly?"

"Not really, no." Harry felt sheepish as he admitted, "The word mate puts me in mind of wild animals."

"One is the bonding of souls, the other merely a joining of lives. A marriage can be broken, a soul bond to your mate cannot."

"But it never said anywhere that they made that sort of bond." Although it did sound about right...

"It may have been made by their parents to ensure loyalty," Snape said, shrugging. "Or they could have entered into it on their own. Either way, it exists, of this I am certain."

"How do you know that?"

"Unlike some, my family passed down the knowledge of our role," Snape answered.

"But, what does this 'bond' have to do with anything?"

"The bond is everything, Potter. It makes certain our lines will be inextricably linked, whether we want to be or not."

Harry felt pressure building just behind his eyes and a slight twinge at the base of the back of his head. "But wouldn't the unbreakable vow do that just fine?"

Snape frowned and looked at the book on Harry's lap. Using a finger, he turned the pages, looking to see if Potter's relative wrote of anything of importance in his blasted journal. Towards the end, he finally found what he was looking for.

"Read," Snape said, sitting back against the couch.

"Isn't that a form of cheating?" Harry grumbled, staring down at the page. The handwriting wasn't Carlisle's familiar slanted text. "Reading the back of the book without the build-up to get there? Why can't you just tell me?"

"Just read," Snape growled through clenched teeth.

Harry's eyes snapped back to the text and he began reading.

_**12 May 1834**_

_We have reached an accord with the Prince family. Mother and Father have bound my youngest sister Abigale to that wretched Jonathon Prince. We knew it was to happen. The families have been feuding for decades and something had to be done. I just wish it wasn't at the expense of my sister and my future great grandchildren._

_The Wizard Vow is every bit as powerful as the Unbreakable, but without the same end results. Still, if either party backs out of the Wizard Vow both sides are affected. It's a bad situation we find ourselves in._

"So what, they were married off? Isn't that kind of normal for the time? I mean, families did it all the time to end feuds, right?" Harry asked, frowning at Snape.

Snape glared at him and then pointed to the last sentence of the first paragraph. "Read that line again."

"Both sides are affected." A sense of dread suddenly loomed over Harry. "What happens if one of us backs out?"

"Nothing pleasant," Snape said darkly.

"But—Surely we don't have to abide by this rule, I mean...we're both guys!"

"Who happen to be the last of their respective lines," Snape replied irritably.

"You've got to be kidding. This vow is ancient, surely there's a loophole or a way out of it!"

"Which part of 'unbreakable' and 'oath' don't you understand?"

"I don't want to have to marry you!" Harry cried in distress.

"Who said anything about marriage?"

"Fuck, Snape, you're a complete arse."

"And you're an idiot," Snape spat, rising to his feet and stalking off to his room.

"Come back here!" Harry shouted, launching to his feet.

Snape turned, his robe billowing about his legs as he closed the distance between Harry and himself. He grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt, hauling him upwards until they were nose to nose. "I told you, Potter, I will not be your lapdog at your beck and call," he hissed.

Harry glared. "Well then stop fucking running off when a conversation turns sour!"

Snape shoved him away. "I will not tolerate your insolence in my own quarters," Snape warned angrily.

"What did you expect me to think? The entire fucking entry was about having the families marry one another. What the fuck kind of conclusion did you think I'd make!"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor!" Snape shouted.

Harry's mouth fell open in shock. "You can't take points – it's the middle of the summer!"

Snape brushed past him to his small kitchen. He grabbed a teapot, scooped some tea out of a container and dumped it inside. He filled it with water before casting a heating charm on it. When steam came out of the spout, he grabbed a cup and poured himself a cupful, ignoring Harry all the while.

"We wouldn't have fought if you had just explained from the beginning," Harry pointed out glumly, taking the seat across from Snape.

"We have to get married," Snape muttered into his teacup.

"Come again? Because I swear you just said we did, in fact, have to get married."

"In name only," Snape replied, sneering at Harry.

"That's really funny, Snape, really fucking witty."

"By all means, if you would like it to be a marriage in all respects, I'm sure I can accommodate you," Snape answered with an exaggerated leer that quickly morphed into a sneer.

Harry rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, leaning back in the chair. "You aren't joking?"

"No, I'm not," Snape said, leaning against the counter.

Harry's voice was weak when he asked, "Do we have to?"

"While I understand death would be preferable, it would mean my death as well," Snape said irritably.

"Of course it does."

"If you wish to have sex –" Snape scowled at Harry's look. "Not with me, you prat! I suggest you sow any wild oats you may have now, as you will be required to remain faithful, at least for a few years," Snape replied, saying the word faithful as if it were a curse. It would be more than a few years, but the boy was already panicked enough without telling him the truth.

"Sow my wild oats? With whom exactly? Want to point me to a nice Muggle prostitute? At least she won't be sleeping with me to have my child and trap me."

Snape shrugged. "That is not my problem. There's always Granger and the Weasley chit. The latter in particular would be obliging, I'm sure."

"I couldn't do that to either of them, or Ron."

"I'm sure Malfoy would be obliging," Snape said, smirking.

Harry glared, folding his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. "You are not funny."

"You're right," Snape agreed, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "He's rubbish in bed, remember?"

"You didn't have another glass when you were holed up in your room, did you?"

"Are you familiar with the concept of laughing to avoid crying?" Snape asked dryly.

"Too familiar," Harry murmured. "Can I have some tea as well?"

Snape reached behind him for a cup and handed it to Harry, then passed him the teapot.

Harry poured his tea, feeling oddly calm with the familiar movements. "Thank you."

"You're taking this well," Snape said, narrowing his eyes and studying Harry.

"Give me a day or two," Harry told him seriously, taking a deep sip of the warm beverage. "If something hasn't exploded by then, assume something is wrong."

Snape snorted. "Do I have your permission to go to bed now?"

Harry looked at him over the rim of the teacup. "Do you need my permission to go to bed?"

"Considering the fact that every time I go to my room you find a reason to drag me back out again, yes."

Harry grinned. "Is it at least past eight thirty now?"

"I don't know, but I'm exhausted. Goodnight, Potter."

"Good night, Snape," Harry said, saluting him with his cup.

Rolling his eyes, Snape went to bed, hoping he would wake up to find it was all a very bad dream.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Co-written with Stormypups**

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Harry groaned as bright light suddenly filled the room. Three days had passed since he had made any attempt to speak to Snape. Too afraid to find out that the conversation about marriage had been real. He was too young! He did not want to get married. He didn't!

A loud tapping noise had him looking at the window of the guest room he was staying in. A disgruntled tawny owl was fluttering in front of the window; in its beak was a simple white envelope. Sighing, Harry swung his legs off the bed and padded over to the window, letting the owl inside.

"Sorry, I haven't got a treat for you," Harry said, taking the note from the owl's beak.

The bird snapped at his fingers, before taking off in irritation. Harry watched it go, before looking down at the envelope. The handwriting wasn't familiar to him. He flipped the envelope over and almost dropped it when he saw the seal.

"Malfoy?"

_Dear Harry,_

_I humbly request the honor of your company at luncheon today. Please let me know if this would be agreeable._

_ Yours,_

_ Draco Malfoy_

Harry's hands were shaking so badly he dropped the parchment. Snape hadn't been joking. Oh shit, he didn't want to do this. He didn't! Moving in a flurry of flailing limbs, he tore down towards the dungeons, skidding to a halt outside Snape's door. He banged on it repeatedly, hoping that Snape hadn't returned to his own home.

"Is there a reason you're trying to put a hole in my door?" Snape asked, coming up behind Harry.

"Malfoy asked me out," Harry whined.

Snape's snort quickly turned into a chuckle as he pushed past Harry into his quarters. "Wear something nice, he's a bit of a snob."

"I don't own anything nice," Harry stated as he followed Snape in.

"Then you do plan on going?" Snape asked, turning so quickly that Harry nearly walked right into him.

Harry tipped his head back in bewilderment. "I'm allowed to say no?"

"Of course you are," Snape said, making his way to his small sitting room. "Just because people want to get their hands on your money and your name, doesn't mean you have to let them."

"He used my first name," Harry mumbled, sitting down hard on the small couch.

"It must be love," Snape replied sarcastically.

"Should I send a reply or just not show up at all?"

"The choice is up to you. Either way, he won't give up easily."

Harry groaned. He did not want this at all. Malfoy was the first to ask, but Harry was positive he wouldn't be the last. "Would telling him to bugger off make him back down any more than usual?"

"No, but it might make you feel better," Snape answered, smirking. "I was just speaking with Albus; your house is once again fit for habitation."

Harry nodded distractedly. "How many pure-blood families are there?"

"Depends, there are those who claim they are pure-bloods, and there are those that in actuality are pure-bloods. The truth of the matter is, I don't believe there is such a thing as pure-blooded anymore."

Harry looked over at Snape curiously. "What do you mean?"

Snape leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable. "It's a fallacy that there are still wizards who are one hundred percent pureblooded. Oh, they like to claim that they are, but I would wager that there is more than one Muggle mixed into their lines."

"I wouldn't let any of them hear you say that."

"When would you like to move in to your new residence?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't really know. It's nice to know it's there and all, but it's huge and even if I had twenty house elves living there with me...I just don't think I'd like it."

"Do you plan on staying here for the remainder of the summer?" Snape asked. "I rather thought you'd enjoy the freedom of your own estate."

Harry's fingers clenched into the sofa fabric. "It's not that I don't think I'd like it exactly…"

"Then what is the problem?" Snape asked, his brow arched in question.

"Will you come with me?"

"I'll not be your house elf," Snape warned, which merely caused Harry to roll his eyes.

"Not that again."

"As I cannot allow you to go around unprotected, I really have no choice in the matter."

Harry's expression brightened. "So you'll go with me." He exhaled as he bowed his head. "I just really didn't want to go there alone," he admitted in a whisper.

"I need time to put some things in order. We'll leave this afternoon if that is agreeable."

"Very." Harry nodded, and relaxed. "I suppose it would be considered rude to just leave Malfoy dangling. I might hate him, but I don't need him to hate me more than he already does. May I borrow a quill and a piece of parchment?"

Snape nodded toward the small writing desk. "Help yourself. Don't get ink over everything."

Harry got up, and stretched a bit. A cool gust of air prickled his skin causing him to shiver. It took him a moment to realize something very important. "Er...Professor?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow as well?"

"What on earth for?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow and then looked down at his own bare chest. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet Snape's once more. "I seem to have misplaced my own."

"Then I suggest you find it," Snape said, smirking.

Harry glared. He couldn't say he was entirely surprised either. Deflating, he moved over to the writing desk and picked up a loose piece of parchment and set it before him. Taking up the quill, he scrawled a quick message.

_Draco,_

_As kind as your offer is, I regret to inform you I cannot make it today._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry J. Potter_

_PS. I plead that you not ask again, for both our sakes._

Snape watched Harry through hooded eyelids, taking a moment to study him while he was otherwise occupied. The boy was lean, but not scrawny. Well toned, but not overly muscled. He'd even had a nice smattering of hair on his chest, and parts lower. At least he wouldn't feel like a complete pedophilic wretch when the time came for him to take Potter to bed.

"Could you read this over for me?" Harry asked as he turned around.

Snape's eyes snapped up to meet Harry's. He felt as though he had been caught by his father looking at a girlie magazine. It was only an act of sheer will that kept the color from rising in his cheeks as he held out a hand for the parchment.

Harry didn't move for the barest of moments, before he handed over the small note.

Snape read it through and handed it back. "Remove the post script, he'll only take it as a challenge."

"He would. If I didn't know it would be rude, I'd just send the message: 'bugger off'." Harry went back to the writing desk and took out a fresh bit of parchment and copied his letter again, this time without a post script.

"Nothing wrong with being direct," Snape replied.

"Yes, but going to the press just to undermine me wouldn't be beneath him." Harry shot a glance over his shoulder. "And yes, I do think things out sometimes."

Snape nodded in acknowledgment, conceding the point. "It's only the first of many missives you'll receive asking for your attention. I'm sure you'll have no problem finding someone to shag, as they say."

Snape didn't know why he kept harping on the point, but the words were already out.

"I'm not looking for a shag, Snape."

"The perhaps you should look for your shirt and leave me in peace."

Harry rolled his eyes. "When will you be ready to leave?"

"I have potions that need at least four more hours to stew. Find me then."

"See you in four hours then." Harry, barefoot, bare-chested and cold, left Snape's rooms feeling less than accomplished. He did feel better about the current situation though.

Snape sat in his chair, staring at the wall lost in thought for a long moment before forcing himself to his feet. He had work to do and things to accomplish before joining Potter at the manor.

Harry paced his room, back and forth, toe heel, toe heel, pivot, heel toe, heel toe. He must have completed the circuit twenty times before he came to a halt. His gaze roamed around the well lit room, landing on the various bits of furniture. Nothing was out of place, yet he felt restless.

The sound of an owl tapping on his window almost made him jump. Muttering angrily at himself for being on edge, he opened the window and let the owl inside.

"If it's another invitation for a date you might as well take it back," Harry told the owl as it settled onto the back of one of the chairs.

He grabbed the note from its beak and opened it.

_Dearest Harry,_

_I do apologize if my invitation came as a shock, perhaps you need more time to think about it? I sincerely hope that you will change your mind. I know that our past interactions may be clouding your opinion of me, and I would desperately love the opportunity to show myself in a more favorable light. War, after all, changes a man._

_Devotedly Yours,_

_Draco Malfoy_

"Devotedly yours?" Harry repeated, dumbstruck.

The owl nipped him on the ear. "Prat wants a response right away, does he?" Harry went to his trunk and dug out a wrinkled bit of parchment along with his quill.

_Dearest Draco,_

_Put down the thesaurus and read my lips. I am not interested._

_Affectionately and peeved,_

_Harry_

Smiling, Harry rolled up the parchment and handed it to the waiting owl. "No offense, but if you return with another note from Malfoy, you might end up losing a few feathers."

With an outraged hoot, the bird flew off.

"More fan mail?"

Harry whirled around, his smile still in place. Snape's head was bobbing in the fireplace.

"Another letter from Malfoy."

"I told you he wouldn't give up easily. Are you ready to depart?" Snape asked. Snape was of the opinion that Muggles had it right using telephones. Kneeling in a fireplace was hard on the knees.

"Yes, sir. I didn't have much to pack anyway." Harry lifted the small bag with a half-hearted shrug. "By the way, I think I left the journal down in your rooms, have you seen it?"

"For someone who has admittedly few things, you should be more careful with your possessions," Snape replied. "I do, indeed, have it." And it had been frustrating to be unable to read it without Potter holding it.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "I've been kicking myself over it for two days now."

"Get your things and meet me in the entrance hall." Snape's head disappeared from the flames.

Harry shook his head and pulled the bag over his shoulder. As he walked through the corridors he thought about the past two weeks and wondered how everything had managed to get turned around so easily. A small part of him was worrying about Remus and what he was doing for the Order still since the War was over. Harry wasn't dense enough to believe the rumors that all the Death Eaters were captured or dead, but he did not like the idea of Remus going after information on their locations alone.

Snape was waiting impatiently in the Great Hall, a small bag in his hand.

"That's all you're bringing?" Harry asked, suddenly afraid Snape was only going to stay the first night, then leave him to fend for himself.

"Shrinking spell. You did attend this school for six years, did you not?"

"I was too busy trying to get myself killed," Harry said cheekily. "Remember?"

"How could I forget," Snape answered, giving Harry a look he'd seen all too often.

"Are there still people sitting around the gate?" Harry asked, peeking his head outside the door.

"Doesn't matter, we'll be going into the Forbidden Forest and Apparating from there, unless his Lordship has any objections?"

"It's illegal?" Harry ventured.

"And that has stopped you before? I'll be Apparating the two of us. It wouldn't do for the King to be fined by the Ministry, now would it?"

"What's with all the 'King' and 'Lordship' bullshit?" Harry asked.

"It amuses me," Snape said, exiting the castle.

"Of course it does." Harry followed a few steps behind Snape, ignoring all the calls from the front gate that could be heard clearly echoing around the grounds. Not for the first time since the Ministry had run the article on him, he wanted to go to the Ministry and wring the neck of the idiot who'd published the story.

They walked in silence through the Forbidden Forest. Snape didn't seem the least bit bothered, but Harry couldn't help feeling a little wary of his surroundings. They finally reached the Apparation border. Snape stopped and looked at Harry.

Harry quirked a brow, uncertain what Snape wanted him to do. He shifted, tension in his body making him jumpy and nervous. He felt very much like he was running away, something he wasn't used to doing.

"What?" he snapped, unable to restrain himself.

Snape held out his hand. "I can't Apparate us both with you standing over there," Snape said calmly.

Harry gazed at the offered hand with skepticism. "Why couldn't we just get another Portkey?"

"Do you really want the Ministry to know why you need a Portkey?" Snape asked, losing patience.

"Er...no."

"And yet we're still standing here. Waiting. For you."

Harry scowled and grabbed Snape's hand, stepping closer.

Rolling his eyes, Snape pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around Harry and Apparating them away. They reappeared on the lane outside of the manor house.

Harry pulled back abruptly, confusion scrawled over his face. "Did you have to hug me?"

"Just what are you accusing me of, Potter?" Snape asked, eyes narrowing.

"Hugging," Harry replied with a small scowl.

"Imbecile," Snape said, turning and walking up the lane to the house. "You think too highly of yourself, Potter," he called over his shoulder.

Harry chased after him, still frowning. "I've never done side-along Apparation before. It was weird."

"Get your license and it won't be a problem," Snape said, standing next to the door and waiting for Harry to open it.

"How?" Harry asked, gripping the knob and sparing a thought about the lack of rust there. "I'm afraid to go out on Hogwarts grounds let alone to the Ministry."

"I daresay we can arrange for something out of the public eye."

Harry opened the door and stepped inside. He inhaled deeply, smiling as he breathed fresh air. "We?"

"If you'd rather handle it on your own, so be it," Snape said, shrugging as if it didn't matter. He followed Harry inside and looked around. "At least it smells better."

Harry nodded, entering the house with a great deal more caution than he supposed it deserved. After all, it wasn't like his family was in any way connected with the Dark Arts. Nothing was going to leap out at him in the very clean house.

His gaze shifted along the no longer dusty interior, and a glance at the floor revealed his own reflection gaping back at him. Light seemed to permeate from the walls infusing the whole house with a warm glow.

Snape studied Harry as he took in his surroundings. He couldn't tell if the boy was awed, afraid, or both. "I'm going to find a bedroom," Snape said, brushing past Harry to the stairway.

Harry nodded distractedly as he continued his journey through the inviting entry hall.

Snape made his way upstairs, sparing a glare at the mysterious figure still standing just outside the frame of his portrait. He found one of the smaller rooms and claimed it as his own. He unpacked his small suitcase, hanging up his robes in the large, stand-alone cupboard.

There was a stone basin on the bedside table. He spelled it full of water, idly wondering if the house elves had done anything about updating the plumbing system. If not, he would have to do it himself, and it was a rather laborious process. He would have to acquire one of those 'Do It Yourself' books.

Joy.

He dipped his fingers in the cool water and splashed a bit against his face already feeling better. Sparing another glance around the interior of the room, Snape headed back to the stairwell and stopped before the same portrait that had caught his eye the first time.

"Are you going to show yourself, or continue playing games?" he asked irritably.

Getting no response, he went in search of Harry.

It wasn't too hard to find him. Finding a sitting room just off the side of the stairs, Snape stood in the entrance. He watched as Harry gazed up unseeingly at a portrait and then he heard Harry's soft sob. "Mum?"

"Potter?" Snape asked, entering the room. There was no response. He moved to stand in front of Harry, grasping him by the shoulders. "Potter!" he said, louder.

Harry gasped, tipping his head back. His eyes locked with Snape's and he exhaled, trembling, and closed his eyes.

"What is it?" Snape asked softly.

"I thought...I thought I saw my mum, but..."

"In the portrait?" Snape asked, confused.

Harry nodded, his eyes opening again.

Snape stepped away from Harry and studied the portrait. "These portraits are hiding something," he murmured, studying the empty frame.

"I wish I knew why," Harry mumbled, staring at the blank canvas dejectedly.

"You are the King. Order them to show themselves."

"Oh please, if I did that and someone did show up they'd laugh at me."

"Then we shall wait them out," Severus said, eyeing the portrait. "Or burn them out," he added more loudly.

"You can remove these things?" Harry asked in shock, thinking about Sirius' mum.

"Yes," Severus replied, an evil smirk on his face. "If you're thinking of Black's obnoxious mother, her portrait was ensconced in Dark Magic. I doubt your ancestors did the same." He moved to stand in front of the empty frame. "They are quite destructible," he added, pleased to see a bit of movement at the side of the frame.

Harry nodded. "Have you noticed for the most part they're all empty?"

"Yes, but I've also noticed that often, they are just out of frame. Listening."

At that moment, a small stocky man dressed in a black suit coat stumbled into the frame. He glared at someone outside of the frame before turning his attention to Harry and Snape.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing deeply to Harry. "My Lord," he added, bowing slightly to Snape.

"About bloody time," Snape groused at the man.

"I have been elected to inform you that the portraits are currently in a meeting and unable to meet with you at this time. I have also been asked to relay the fact that we would be rather displeased were you to burn, cut, mangle or mutilate our canvas. Good day." The little man bowed, and then ran out of the frame before either man could respond.

Harry's mouth had dropped open somewhere around the words 'My Lord' and it stayed that way until Snape snorted.

"That was--" Harry began, unable to find a word to describe what he was feeling.

"Bizarre," Snape finished. "Portraits with attitudes."

"I don't know. At least that one didn't seem like the brainless ones back in Hogwarts."

"Sir Cadogan would be pleased to hear that. I'm sure he would challenge you to a duel for the slight. If he could find his sword or his bloody horse."

Harry grinned and shook his head. "As long as none of these scream like Mrs. Black, I don't care what type of attitude they have."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

Harry was bored.

He'd explored the house, at least the parts that weren't too old and creepy to venture in to alone. He'd wait until Ron could come and explore those with him. He didn't dare ask Snape, the man probably thought he was a big wimp already.

Harry hadn't thought of things like running water and working toilets until he actually had to use one. When he'd found the bathroom fully functional, he gave a huge sigh of relief. Peeing in a bucket wasn't his idea of a good time.

Snape had been in the library, going over the ancient books and Harry had left him to it. But that was hours ago, and he was bored and hungry and was tired of the silence of the large house. At this point, he didn't even care if Snape yelled at him, at least it would be something.

Drumming his fingers along the oak tabletop, he sighed. Dobby had popped in once, but that, also, had been ages ago.

He came to a quick decision and stood, heading towards the library on the second floor. Snape would just have to suffer his presence. His eyes flickered to all the empty canvases on the walls, not seeing anyone in them. He had briefly contemplated trying to find them earlier on in the day. The prospect of meeting his family, even if only in picture form, was too enticing to pass up, but still he'd had to. If he had gone alone he would have gotten lost and that was another set of problems that he just had no intention of dealing with.

Entering the library, he headed towards the table at the center where Snape was seated amongst a pile of old, worn books.

"Anything interesting?" Harry asked, sitting on the edge of the table.

Snape looked up at him distractedly. "What?"

Harry tapped the book. "Anything interesting?"

"It's the history of the monarchy before it was overthrown. It's fascinating really."

"Oh?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too eager. At least he wasn't being thrown out on his ear. "Like what?"

Snape started going on about the first king, and this date and that date until Harry felt like his eyes were glazing over.

"Potter, are you even listening?"

Harry blinked. "Will you hex me if I say no?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "No sense of history."

"Sorry, I tried to pay attention, but history just never held any particular fascination for me."

"This is not just history, Potter, it's your history."

Harry gritted his teeth. "I know."

Snape sighed, shutting the book. "Was there something that you wanted, or were you so bored you decided to annoy me?"

There was a long silence as Harry looked everywhere but at Snape. "I wouldn't say I came to annoy you exactly..."

"Bored then. What time is it? I don't suppose you've checked the status of the plumbing, have you?"

"It exists," Harry told him. "And it works better than the Hogwarts plumbing does, nothing rattles."

"Well, I for one am hungry. Where are the kitchens?" Snape asked, pushing back from the table. "I assume you went exploring."

"A bit," Harry stated, "I didn't find the kitchen though."

Snape thought for a moment. "Typically, they were at the back end of the house."

"The 'back end'?"

"Yes, Potter. There is a front and a back to every home. The kitchens are usually at the back so the family didn't have to be bothered by servants coming and going."

Harry clapped his hands in front of him, and swung his legs back and forth. "And by back you mean...?"

Snape glared at him.

"I lived in a cupboard," Harry reminded him. "Under the stairs."

"Did your cupboard have a back and a front?" Snape asked.

"It depends on what you classify back and front."

Snape scowled and turned on his heel, going in search of the kitchen on his own.

Harry hopped off the table and trailed after Snape. They had been walking in silence, and Harry found his mind wandering, which in turn made him slow down in the dimly lit corridor, and almost made him lose track of Snape. He didn't fancy having to mill about the manor all evening so he jogged to catch up.

"Just how big do you suppose this place is?" he asked after a moment.

"Without finding the actual plans for the manor, I can't say. Who knows the extent to which charms were used, making the interior larger than the exterior."

"You could get lost in here," Harry murmured, not readily admitting he had no idea where Snape was leading them. He hadn't come down this hallway during his mini investigation.

"For all you know we are lost," Snape returned, halting momentarily at the end of corridor. "Left, I think."

"You think?" Harry gaped. "You can't think, you have to know!"

"You're one to talk," Snape snorted. "You've spent half your life doing things without thinking at all." He pushed through a door. "Hmm… should have gone right."

"I'm lost in my house with Snape. Joy," Harry said dully, letting Snape go past him and take the right he should have in the first place.

"It's not like you're lost in a forest full of dangerous creatures, Potter. It's just a house." He pushed through another door, and smiled when he saw not only a kitchen but also one that had brand new pots and pans hanging above a large chopping block.

"At least those creatures are expected and you can anticipate what they'll do," Harry groused. He stood in the center of the kitchen and folded his arms over his chest. "And you're an utter git."

Snape faced Harry, surprised. "What on earth did I do?"

"Lots of things," Harry replied vaguely, moving to sit down on a stool by the counters.

"Tell me, was it coming with you when you asked, or offering to cook a meal tonight?" Snape leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest.

Harry lowered his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. He could tell a light blush was gracing his cheekbones and he wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or humiliation. "Neither, sir."

"Then please, enlighten me," Snape said, sneering.

Wincing, Harry answered, "I'm sorry."

"No, by all means, tell me what horrid things I have done to you today."

"You haven't done anything."

"Then we agree," Snape said, walking passed Harry and out of the kitchen.

Harry blinked in confusion. "On what?" he called after him.

"I'm going for a walk in the grounds," Snape replied, walking away.

"That wasn't an answer!" Harry hollered. He frowned and looked around the kitchen once more. Seeing the pot Snape had taken down he moved about the kitchen looking for something to make a good potato soup.

Snape wandered the maze of corridors until he found a door that led outside. The sun was low in the sky and he took in a great lungful of air and let it out slowly. This was never going to work. Even when he was being civil, Potter seemed to think he was a complete bastard.

He hadn't the slightest clue how to go about convincing Potter enough to accept their new roles, and they had to be accepted. There was no way around that. He cursed his ancestors for getting involved with bloody Potters until most of his anger was gone.

Snape considered his options and came to a very frightening conclusion. He was going to have to seduce Harry Potter.

He idly wondered if there was another Dark Lord he could swear loyalty too. That had to be easier than this.

As he entered the house once more the distinct scent of onions greeted him.

He found his way back to the kitchens, took a deep steadying breath, and stepped inside. "It smells good, what are you cooking?" he asked, keeping his voice as polite as he could make it.

Harry looked up and grinned from where he was hollowing out a piece of bread with a knife. "Potato soup. Can you help hollow out the other loaf of bread?" He jerked his head towards the counter where there was another loaf waiting. "I've only got a few more minutes before I need to add the cream."

Nodding, Snape took a knife from the counter top and went about hollowing out the loaf of bread. "Where did you learn to cook?" he asked, searching for something to talk about.

Harry shrugged. "I had to learn how to cook; otherwise I'd be locked up. But this," he wielded his knife in a small circle, "this I learned from a cooking show I got to watch once when the Dursleys went out."

Snape had to think for a moment. "Cooking show? Do you mean on the telly?"

"Yes." Harry grinned again, nodding. If Snape could be civil then so could he. It really wasn't much of a challenge when he wasn't constantly being insulted. "I also learned this great dessert when I was still there before all this happened."

"Tell me about the cupboard," Snape said, going through the cupboards in search of dishes.

"There's not much to tell. It was small, it was under the stairs, and it had spiders and me as residents."

"Surely you're exaggerating."

"It also had a nifty little lock on the outside meant to keep me in," Harry supplied.

Snape blinked. He wasn't joking.

"Was anyone aware of this? Albus? Minerva?"

"Who knows?" Harry stared down at his shelled out bread bowl. He had always wondered, but truthfully he'd been afraid to find out the answer. "Are the Hogwarts letters addressed magically or manually?"

"A bit of both. Why do you ask?"

"Because the first letter I ever got from anyone was from Hogwarts and it was addressed to me, in that cupboard under the stairs."

Snape frowned. Albus must have known. "I take it then, in his infinite wisdom, Albus believed you were safer under the blood protection of your relatives despite the less than ideal treatment. That man's idiocy is, at times, astounding, all things considered. For all intents and purposes the Dar - Voldemort was dead. At the time, there was no need for the protection they afforded."

Harry shrugged. "On the bright side I learned how to cook."

"And to cook well, it would seem," Snape answered as Harry stirred the cream into the pot. "Why could you not apply that same focus to potion making? The concepts are similar."

"Because food tastes good when done properly. Potions taste like horse piss and sometimes smell worse no matter how well you do them."

Snape snorted, oddly amused by the comment. "Yet they do come in handy, say for saving your miserable life, healing missing bones, allowing you to sleep without dreaming. Yes, very useless and not worth learning to do properly."

"Why learn when I have you around to save my mangy hide."

"Ah yes, my never-ending joy," Snape returned with an insincere smile.

"Oh, you love it," Harry teased, trying to bite down the irrational fear of being yelled at. This was Snape, of course he would yell, but it wasn't like this was the first time he'd teased the older man, and he doubted it'd be his last. However, it was certainly the first time he'd done so shortly after a fight.

"Yes, I would be utterly lost without the need to pull you out of every scrape you get yourself into." Snape went about making tea while Harry finished up with the soup.

"I really hope you like leeks and bacon for that matter," Harry commented as he sprinkled ground up bacon over the top of the soup.

"That's fine, just don't overdo the salt, it can completely ruin an otherwise good soup," Snape warned, looking over Harry's shoulder and into the pot.

Harry nodded as he sprinkled a bit of salt over it as well. "Did you finish your bread bowl?"

Severus picked up the scooped out loaf and Harry's as well, holding them both up to be filled.

Harry smiled as he ladled out the soup into the respective bowls.

Once filled, Snape took them to the table and set them down, then went to collect the tea and spoons. He waited for Harry to join him before tasting the soup.

Harry was looking at him with something akin to hope and fear.

Snape let it rest on his tongue, savoring the flavors. Then he swallowed and gave Harry a small smile. "Well done, Potter."

"Seriously? I mean!" Harry flushed and squeezed his eyes shut. "Thank you," he squeaked, taking a large bite of his food before he could say something even more mortifying.

"I take it the elves stocked up on enough food to last us through next winter," Snape said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "If you're going to take up permanent residence here after school you should look in to getting a house elf."

Harry swallowed his food thoughtfully. "As much as Hermione would hate me to say this, I think you're right."

"I'm sure Albus would let you have Dobby, at least then you can pay him a wage and Granger won't be throwing fits all over the place."

"She'll be throwing fits even if I do pay him," Harry mumbled into his soup.

"I'm surprised you didn't invite them to stay with you," Snape said, studying Harry across the table.

"Who?"

"Granger and Weasley."

Harry shrugged. "Didn't think of it."

"They've got to be better company than me," Snape added, frowning. "Which begs the question, why me?"

"Because you know more about this situation than they do."

Snape frowned. Considering Potter could have access to him without their living together, he was confused. "And you need me in residence for that?"

Harry bit his lip. "I feel safe."

"I see," Snape answered, frowning into his soup. That's twice Potter had claimed he felt safe with him, which was odd within itself.

"Do you?"

"No," Snape admitted, considering Harry.

Harry grinned. "Good."

"Good?" Snape asked, arching his brow in question. "Would you care to explain yourself?"

Harry continued to grin as he tore a piece of bread from the rim of the bowl. "You don't know everything."

An evil smile graced Snape's lips. "True, but as I am an accomplished Legilimens and you are a poor excuse for an Occlumens, you shouldn't rely on that."

"At least I know when you're in there."

"How do you plan on occupying your time until school starts?"

Harry popped another spoonful of soup into his mouth. "Have you seen the garden out the front?"

Snape's lip curled into a sneer. "If you can call it that."

"That's what I'm doing until school starts."

"I was thinking of setting aside a piece of ground to grow plants and herbs for potions. Would you have any objection?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Snape idly wondered if Potter understood the ramifications of that. If he were to plant a herb garden, it meant he planned on being around to take care of said garden. "You have no desire to think about it first?"

"No," Harry replied, slowly looking up from his soup, "Should I?"

"It may be wise to do so."

Harry continued to stare at him blankly. "Why?"

"Because it's never good to agree to something without considering all of the angles. How do you know I won't be growing something illegal in your gardens? How do you know that what I plant won't interfere with what you wish to plant?"

"I just plan on removing all those damned weeds, to be honest," Harry told him with an uneasy shrug. "And why, of all the mean and spiteful things you could do to me while you're here, would you wish to sabotage my garden?"

Snape rolled his eyes and pushed back from the table. "You're hopeless."

"What?"

"You are too trusting."

Harry stood and made an aborted move to go around the table. "Is there a reason I shouldn't trust you?"

"Tell me the reasons that you should," Snape countered.

Harry opened and shut his mouth once. "Because—"

"If you're going to trust someone, Potter, you had better have a good reason for doing so."

"I just do, all right!"

"There is no need to shout. Thank you for dinner, it was very good," Snape said, deciding to change the subject before he said something insulting.

Harry's eyes widened and he sat down in his chair, hard. "You're welcome."

Snape attempted to smile, but he had a feeling it came out wrong, so he stopped bothering to try. "Would you like to explore the grounds before it is completely dark outside?"

"Yeah, why not?" Harry agreed, still reeling from the abrupt subject change. "I only got a little sense of those gardens earlier."

With a wave of his wand, Snape set the kitchen to cleaning itself. "I believe I might even remember the way."

"I'm sorry about earlier."

Snape waved Harry off, not wishing to speak of it. He led them unerringly to the same door he'd used earlier to go outside. The sun was just beginning to set, but there was still plenty of light to see by.

"I wonder how much land there is here," Harry murmured, looking out across a large field.

"Enough to build a number of small buildings and still have room to roam," Snape said, scanning the surrounding fields. "You could build your own Quidditch pitch if you so desired."

"Who'd play with me?" Harry asked, shading his eyes as he looked around. "You?"

Snape snorted. "I think not. There are enough Weasleys running about to make two teams, I'm sure."

"That's mean," Harry laughed. "There's only enough of them for one team and an extra player, and that's only if you convince Molly or Arthur onto a broom or if you can make Percy play nicely."

"You have to admit, it would be amusing to watch Molly play Quidditch," Snape replied. "She would make a good beater, particularly if one of her children were in danger of being hit by a Bludger."

Harry beamed at the thought. "She would indeed. I think she'd be just as good if any child was in danger."

"Have you ever seen her duel? The woman knows some truly painful hexes."

Harry looked at him curiously. "I haven't; does she really?"

"Quite, as the boils on my arse would attest. They wouldn't respond to any type of potion or counter spell," Snape said, cringing at the memory. "I couldn't sit for days, which is awkward when you're in front of students all day." He wasn't about to tell Harry why he had made Molly so angry. That was more embarrassing than the boils.

"I now understand where Ginny gets her talent from."

They had meandered to the small plot of land Snape was considering for his own garden. "If you have no objection, I'd like to plant my garden here. It would include some of the ground in the center of those trees, as it will be cooler there for some of the temperamental plants."

Harry nodded. "I honestly know nothing about gardening but the basics."

"If you'd like to learn more, I can help you plant your garden," Snape said, crouching and feeling the dirt, letting it run through his fingers.

Harry gazed back up towards the garden beds overrun with weeds and wildflowers. "I'll take you up on that, once I fix it up."

"That will give me time to mix up something to act as fertilizer. Good soil can make all the difference." He rose to his feet and looked at Harry. "Did you wish me to stay for the duration of the summer?"

Harry gazed up at him. "Only if you want to."

"That was not the question, Potter. Do you wish me to stay?" he asked again, frowning. He'd be staying regardless, but it wouldn't hurt for Potter to think it was his own idea.

Harry frowned, but nodded. "Yes."

"Then I'll need to convert some rooms into a makeshift lab. There seemed to be some rooms off the kitchen that would be suitable."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "So you're staying then?"

"Did we not just establish that?" Snape asked, amused. 

"Well, yes… but no!"

"I will be staying, for the duration of the summer, at the manor, with you. Is that clear enough?" Snape asked, bemused.

Harry flushed. "Yes."

Snape nodded, and they made their way back to the house. 


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

The _Daily Prophet_ seemed to love him. Harry stared at the ever-growing pile of newspapers that ran articles about him. The Daily and Evening Prophet seemed to think his sudden curse of royalty was the most interesting bit of news to be published. Harry could think of a few dozen things he'd rather read then this load of crap. It made the acid churn in his stomach, and not in the pleasant way it did whenever he caught himself staring at Snape.

"You're not still bothering to read that tripe, are you?" Snape asked, entering the kitchen and scowling at the offending pile of papers.

"I have to know what they're saying so I can be prepared when I go back to school," Harry explained. "I hate the _Prophet_, but I have to read it."

"Their half-truths and lies are only the beginning. As the house is warded, your adoring public has been kept at bay. At school, there will be nothing to stop women and men alike throwing themselves at you. I don't suppose you could make yourself less...appealing?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know," Snape said, gesturing toward Harry's face. "You're too handsome. Maybe we could grow a few warts and pimples on your face. That will repel a large portion of the shallowest of the lot."

Harry snorted. "Handsome! of course I am."

Snape looked at Harry with mock confusion. Be subtle, Severus. "You should look in the mirror more. You have grown into an attractive young man. You've lost that awkward gangliness and grown into your feet. You also have a level of maturity that comes when you've been thrown into circumstances such as you've been through. Overall, you're quite attractive," Snape said, nodding and turning away to pour himself a cup of tea.

"Bloody hell, Snape did not just call me attractive," Harry muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Snape asked. He'd heard every syllable, but he was curious if the boy would say it to his face.

Harry looked at him with fear and confusion marring his features. "You find me attractive?"

Snape shrugged. "Yes, I'm surprised you don't. It's of no consequence; merely an observation I assure you."

"An observation about my attractive qualities," Harry shot back. "Qualities I assure you I don't have."

"I haven't the time or inclination to stroke your ego, but I will tell you that you are indeed attractive."

"You mean Malfoy's cloyingly sweet notes won't be the end of it?" Harry saw the amused look and grinned. "I know big words too, you know."

"And you even used 'cloyingly' correctly. Five points to Gryffindor." Snape smirked. He began to think awarding and taking would be fun, even outside of Hogwarts.

"You know something?"

"What?"

"That's just mean."

"You'll have to be more specific, unless calling you attractive is a mortal sin."

"Not that." Harry groaned. "Giving points when they don't count. That's just plain mean."

"You're never satisfied, are you Potter?" Snape frowned. "Does this mean I can add some things to make you not so handsome?"

"If you must..."

"Generally, the answer to a yes or no question is indeed yes or no?"

"Well, I don't want to say yes because the thought of having warts or boils makes me queasy, but the thought of being attacked in odd corners in Hogwarts isn't any more appealing."

"You're taking all the fun out of it, you know," Snape said, scowling.

"I am?" Harry asked innocently.

Subtle seduction, Severus. Step one, not-so-innocent compliments.

"At least if you were made up to look horrid it would be less distracting than your normal face. Or not. I suppose that would depend on just how horrid you looked."

"Hey!" Harry cried, laughing. "Isn't there another way to make people back off without giving me unsightly facial blemishes?"

"Oh, I suppose so," Snape said with a put-upon sigh. "Would you be averse to being turned into a small fish? A goldfish, perhaps? I could keep you in a bowl on my desk. It would be the easiest way to keep you out of trouble."

"I wouldn't be able to go to lessons," Harry pointed out, "but I think there are worse fates then living on your desk."

"Have you seen the things that live on my desk?"

"Er...no. I tried not to look too hard," Harry admitted.

"Wise," Snape replied, carrying his teacup to the table.

Harry leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. "So what is on your desk?"

Snape grinned wickedly and sipped his tea.

"Come on," Harry coaxed. "Now you've got me curious."

"In this case, curiosity won't kill you. What are your plans for the day?"

"Homework." Harry shrugged. "I have this killer Potions assignment on top of an insane Transfiguration essay..."

"It's not that difficult," Snape scoffed. "If you'd paid attention, you'd realize that the essay is on a potion you should have perfected in your fifth year."

"Do you remember my fifth year?"

"Rather hard to forget it," Snape said frowning at the memory of their Occlumency lessons.

"Do you remember who was teaching Defense?"

"What does that have to do with Potions?" Snape asked, his brow arched in question.

"When did I get the chance to study them?" Harry demanded. "Between running an underground defense club – yes, I did do that – and being in detention with the old toad, when did I get the chance to do anything at all?"

"I'd think that once you were banned from Quidditch, you'd find time to study," Snape replied.

"Detention," Harry repeated, holding up his hands. The white scars shone under the candlelight.

Frowning, Snape took Harry's hand, studying the fine white lines on the back of his hand. He traced them with a long, potion-stained finger. "'I will not tell lies'. This was Umbridge?" he asked, the grip on Harry's hand tightening as Snape's face darkened in anger.

"Who else? It certainly wasn't you."

Snape's left eye began to twitch as he released Harry's hand. He wrapped his fingers around his teacup, his knuckles going white. "Did Albus know?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"I don't think so, not about this."

"Why didn't you tell someone?" Snape asked, scowling darkly.

Harry stared at him incredulously. "Who would I tell? If I told any of the other professors and they went and told the Ministry, they were as good as fired."

Snape's eye was still twitching as he pushed back his chair. "I need to pick up a few supplies for the garden. Do you need anything while I'm out?"

Harry shook his head, and reached over for Snape's half-empty mug.

"I'll see you in a few hours." With that, Snape left the room, leaving Harry to stare after him.

* * *

The sound of the door opening with a loud creak woke up Harry faster than any bucket of water could have done. He hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep. The air was so thick and warm; he hadn't wanted to leave the manor to go and work in the garden and had decided to go and read in the library near the entrance hall instead.

It had been cool in there and the cool leather sofa had felt good against his sticky skin. The last thing he recalled was thinking that the grandfather clock needed to be set again.

"Did I wake you?" Snape asked. His voice was lower than usual but his eyes were shining with something akin to triumph.

Harry made a small noise of agreement. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he moved to sit up, wincing at the slick popping noise as his sweaty skin detached from the couch.

"Studying hard I see," Snape said, sitting in a nearby chair.

"I wasn't expecting it to get so hot in here," Harry grumbled, still half asleep.

"I've got some things that need to be planted today. Would you like to help, or would you rather lie about all day?"

"I'll help," Harry answered quickly. "It can't be any worse out there than it is in here."

They worked for nearly thirty minutes, when the loud crack of someone Apparating had them both lifting their heads. Snape's wand was in his hand so fast, Harry couldn't help but be impressed, but there was no need for wands. Ron was standing at the bottom of the lane, waving and looking sheepish.

Harry smiled and stood up, brushing off his pants. He dropped his trowel and pulled off his dirt-encrusted gloves, tossing them to the ground, before jogging over to where Ron was standing just outside the wards. Taking Ron's hand he pulled the redhead through unharmed.

"Hey."

"Hey. Hope this is all right. We were all kind of worried and I sort of insisted on coming to check on you." Harry couldn't help but notice the way Ron was warily watching Snape.

"I'm fine," Harry answered the unasked question. His gaze flickered over to where Snape had gone back to his gardening. "I was just doing some gardening, you know."

"Gardening? Have you been hanging out with Neville or something?" Ron asked, grinning. "Wow, Harry, this place is huge."

"That's what I said," Harry laughed. "Come on, I'll give you a tour if you have the time."

"Wicked," Ron said, his eyes shining with curiosity. As they passed Snape, neither Ron nor Snape acknowledged one another, which was probably for the best, all things considered.

Once they were inside, Ron looked at Harry. "You alright mate? I mean here, with him?"

"Yeah," Harry looked askew at Ron, "why shouldn't I be?"

"I dunno, it's just...Snape," Ron said, the look on his face telling Harry all he needed to know.

Harry grabbed Ron's arm to prevent him from walking off. "So what if it's 'just Snape'?"

"Snape, Harry. You know, the guy who made you miserable for how long? Same guy who humiliates Hermione every chance he gets. That Snape!" Ron exclaimed, frowning. "He hasn't, placed a spell on your or anything has he? Bill's home, he can break any curse you throw at him if you want to go and get checked out."

"He hasn't," Harry bit out.

"You know me and Hermione would be happy to come and stay here with you," Ron said. "If it's just that you don't want to be alone..."

"It's not only a matter of loneliness, Ron," Harry sighed, letting go of Ron's arm. He leaned back against the wall, beneath one of the blank portraits. "If you want to come stay here it's fine by me, but don't think I'm going to kick Snape out."

Ron's frowned deepened. "It's because of that journal, isn't it? What did Snape do, convince you that he had to live with you to protect you? Because he doesn't. You've got a lot of friends, Harry."

Harry grinned. "He hasn't killed me yet, has he?"

Ron shrugged and shook his head. "Your choice, even if I think it's a stupid one."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Do you trust me?"

"Course I do, it's him I don't trust."

"No, you don't." Harry pushed off the wall and jerked his head towards the door leading into the library. Once they were both inside, Harry continued, "You don't trust me. If you did you'd believe me when I said I was safe. It's not just the journal that's making me feel this way."

"Then explain it to me, so that when I go back home and everyone asks I can give them a better answer than 'Harry trusts him'!"

"Ron, how much do you remember about the final battle?" Harry asked gently.

"Everything up until that spell addled my brain," Ron said, flopping onto a chair. "Damn these are hard," he said, shifting to get more comfortable.

"That's Snape's chair," Harry said, smiling. "I think he likes it that way."

Ron jumped up, looking around in a panic. "He won't care, you prat," Harry said, smirking.

"Better safe than sorry," Ron said, settling into a different chair. "Anyway, the last thing I really remember is climbing that hill with you and all hell breaking loose at the top."

Harry nodded, perching himself on the arm of Snape's chair. "Has anyone bothered to fill you in on what happened next?"

"No."

Harry couldn't help but cringe at the bitter tone the word had. He was one of the guilty ones as well. He hadn't wanted to tell Ron because he didn't want to remember himself.

"When you got struck by the Obliviate, I was too far away to get to you. I saw you go down, and so did Hermione, but we were both too far away and too busy to reach you." Harry's gaze rested on Ron's pale face. "You were stumbling around disoriented and screaming something about not wanting to degnome the garden."

Harry shifted and fell ungracefully into Snape's chair. He wasn't sure how well his next bit of news would be received. "It was Snape who got to you first, Ron. He handed you his emergency Portkey to get back inside Hogwarts and activated it."

Ron sat up, frowning. "Snape? Wish someone would have told me," Ron groused, his brow furrowed as he thought. "So what? I should be all grateful and trust him now? I mean I am, I am grateful and I'll even tell him as much. But trust? I don't know that I can ever do that mate; I'm just being honest with you."

"I don't need you to trust him; I just need you to know why I trust him." Harry grinned ruefully. "Hell, I need to work out why I trust him."

"Which is what I've been trying to do! Tell me why you trust him!"

Harry ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes as he leaned into the winged-back armchair. It was hard, just as Ron had said, but it wasn't that bad.

"I trust him because he's always kept me safe," Harry mused aloud, "I suppose, or at least that's part of it. It just seems to boil down to I feel safe around him. Did you notice how he reacted when you Apparated outside the wards?"

Snape was about to announce himself, but decided against it. He would learn more this way, neither boy would censor what they had to say.

"Yeah, he had his wand out right quick. I was afraid he was going to hex me before I even got a chance to say it. The man is terrifying when he's set to duel." Ron shivered. "Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that."

Harry snorted. "I have been. It isn't fun. But that's my point, even his knee jerk reactions, the ones spawned from paranoia," Ron snorted this time and Harry grinned, "are meant to keep me safe. No one knows he is here with me, but I'm fairly certain the entire wizarding world knows that I am."

"And he hasn't done anything to you? He hasn't like tried to… you know," Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Kiss you, or anything, right?"

Snape froze with indecision. Listen to the answer, or hex Weasley for his impertinence?

Harry laughed. "Would you really want to know if he had?"

"No!" Ron said, holding up his hands. "But...did he?"

Harry shook his head, still looking amused. "No, he hasn't."

Ron studied him. "You don't seem very opposed to the idea," Ron said, cocking his head at Harry.

"I've had Malfoy write me love letters," Harry told him frankly, "And to be honest I'd rather snog Snape than go on a date with that narcissistic prick."

In the hallway, Snape's eyebrows shot up.

"Frankly Harry, I'm concerned that you consider snogging Snape is even an option."

"You shouldn't be," Harry said firmly. "Because it's unlikely ever to happen. I doubt highly that Snape's as excited about the idea as you are."

That, Mister Potter is yet to be determined, Snape thought. Deciding he may as well have a bit of fun at Weasley's expense, he entered the room. "Tell me, Weasley," he said, moving to Ron's chair and looming over him. "Why, pray tell, is my name being bandied about in the context of snogging? While I am flattered, Weasley, I'm going to have to decline your generous offer."

Ron's eyes widened to a size that had to be painful. "Bu-bu-!"

"Breathe, Weasley," Snape said, rolling his eyes at an amused Harry. "I'm going to cook dinner, is he staying?"

"I dunno," Harry said, trying to stifle his laughter as Ron's face turned bright red. "You staying for dinner, Ron?"

"Sure he won't poison me?" Ron asked, scrubbing the back of his neck.

"I only have enough poison to give Potter. You'll have to come again another night if you want the full experience. Otherwise, we'll be eating in about an hour."

Harry waited until Snape had swept out of the room, before addressing Ron again. "You okay there, Ron?"

"Snape thinks I want to snog him," he cried, his voice high and whiny.

"No, he really doesn't."

"Doesn't he ever scare you?" Ron whispered, keeping an eye out for Snape coming back.

Harry nodded. "If I don't notice him when he's looming, yes, he can scare the piss out of me. But not in the way you're thinking, at least, not any more."

"If you say so," Ron said, giving a small shudder.

"I should go see if he wants help, you coming?" Harry asked, getting to his feet.

"Is it all right if I go and poke around for a bit?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, of course, but don't get lost. I have. Oh, and while you're poking, see if you can get any of the portraits to talk to you. They won't come out and it's starting to irritate me."

"Portrait baiting. Sounds fun," Ron said, grinning.

"If you get lost, yell and we'll come and find you. Eventually."

Harry grinned all the way to the kitchen. He pushed open the door to see Snape washing assorted vegetables. "Need help?" he asked, leaning on the counter next to Snape.

"Start chopping those carrots into strips," Snape instructed, indicating the freshly washed vegetables on the countertop.

Harry grabbed them, set them a safe distance away from the sink, and went to the drawer with the knives in it. "What are you making?"

"Stir fry I think," Snape said, pulling out the raw chicken and rinsing it in the sink as well.

"What do you mean, you think?"

"I've never actually done it, but I don't see it as being any more difficult than anything else." He reached for a cutting board and began slicing the chicken into smaller chucks. "Where's Weasley?"

"Goading portraits," Harry answered distractedly, "and what do you mean you've never done it?"

"I've never made a stir fry. Have you?" Snape inquired.

"Well, no, but that's a bit beside the point seeing as I'm not the one who is going to try and make it!"

"So little faith in my cooking abilities? I'm wounded, Potter, wounded."

Harry flushed. "No, it just seems a bit daft, that's all."

"What seems daft?"

"You don't have any instructions on how to do this, and you've never done it before. I like edible food. Edible, reliable food."

"Don't be ridiculous, it will be perfectly edible. If you're intention is to mock me while I'm cooking, you may leave."

"It's not like you don't mock me when I'm brewing a potion," Harry countered.

"That is different, in that situation I'm trying to teach you something. Here, it would just be mockery."

"Whatever it was you were trying to teach, it got lost in translation," Harry grumbled, chopping at the carrots with an extra amount of noise.

Snape dumped the diced chicken into the already heated pan, and it sizzled amongst the oil and water. He stirred it around a bit and summoned a bottle from the cupboard. He read the label, shrugged and poured a generous amount in with the chicken.

"Have you got the onion?" Snape asked, and Harry handed him the dish full of onion. Snape dumped it in the pan and stirred it around with the chicken.

Harry leaned against the counter with a soft sigh. "I think I'd better go and find Ron."

"Wonderful, you can both get lost together. Food should be ready in fifteen minutes, give or take." Snape stirred the chicken and onion around the pan, browning them.

"Yes, sir." Harry rolled his eyes and meandered out of the kitchen.

"And I have no intention of saving you any food if you're not back in time," he muttered when Harry left. Weasley wasn't a variable he had been prepared for. Sighing, he resigned himself to being civil to the boy. Step number two in subtle seduction: get along with his friends.

Harry found Ron on the stairs, talking quietly with the portrait that had caught Snape's fascination on their first visit. He crept up the stairs, careful to avoid the ones that squeaked as he tried to make out what was being said.

"I am sorry, young Master Weasley. There is nothing I can tell you. It is for you to find out on your own."

Harry paused and cocked his head to the side. The voice was familiar, but not. And then it hit him. It wasn't the voice, so much as the language. If he could just see who it was... Creeping up the last few steps, he could finally see the mystery man in the portrait. Lank black hair covered most of the man's face, but he could still see the scowl so familiar to him he was unnerved.

"Thelonious?" he whispered in shock. It was one thing to be told off by a portly gentleman in a suit that he didn't recognize, it was quite another to come face to face with a man he'd read about intimately.

The man in the portrait cocked his head, studying Harry with a scowl. "You'll do," he said, and disappeared out of the frame.

Ron looked at Harry, an unrecognizable look on his face.

"Ron, what were you talking about?" Harry asked, taking the stairs two at a time to reach his friend.

"Nothing."

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "All right, so then it meant nothing that he said I'll do? What was that about then?"

"As king I suppose. Look, I just asked him a question and he gave me the run around. That's it," Ron said, brushing passed Harry to go back down the stairs.

Harry followed quickly after. "Well, what did you ask then?"

"It's not important," Ron replied.

Harry grabbed Ron by the arm, stopping him. "The portraits are already hiding stuff from me; I don't need my best friend doing it too!"

"Really, Harry, it isn't important," Ron reassured. "If it was I would tell you."

"Yeah, right," Harry muttered irritably. "Dinner's about ready, come and eat," he said sulkily.

"Come on, mate, don't be like that," Ron groaned.

Harry didn't answer, but sped up leading Ron through the halls.

Snape looked up from the table he was setting when the two entered the room. Potter was obviously upset about something, and Weasley looked guilty.

"Potter?" Snape asked while scowling at Ron.

"Guess who Ron got to talk to?"

"Harry, it's not like that!" Ron cried.

"Who?" Snape asked, his scowl deepening.

"He was having a chat with Thelonious' portrait," Harry said bitterly.

"Merlin, Harry, do you have to tell him everything?" Ron asked, beginning to get angry.

"No."

Snape looked between the two of them and rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, I have no desire to mediate your lover's spat," he sneered, turning back to the food on the stove. "Grab a plate."

He watched as first Harry, then Ron went and grabbed a plate each, neither looking at the other.

They sat in awkward silence at the table. Harry was angrily stabbing at his vegetables, and Ron was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Getting fed up with it all, Snape finally spoke.

"You know, Weasley, Legilimency isn't illegal," he said lightly, placing a small piece of chicken his mouth, counting on the veiled threat to get things moving along.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Ron cried.

"Look Ron, I know to you it's no big deal, but to me it is, alright?" Harry snapped, pushing his plate away. "Why can't you just tell me what you talked about?"

"Because it's none of your damned business," Ron exclaimed, "That's why!"

Harry shoved back from the table and stormed out of the room, leaving Ron and Snape alone. "You stay out of my mind, Snape," Ron said nervously.

"Do you need help finding the door, Mister Weasley?" Snape asked, smirking.

"I can find it on my own," Ron muttered, also pushing away from the table, following in Harry's wake.

Snape continued to eat his meal, debating whether to let Potter come to him, or if he should go after him. In the end, he determined that Potter wouldn't expect Snape to come after him, therefore that was what he should do.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it on his plate. Snape cast a warming charm on Harry's plate, and went in search of the boy himself.

It didn't take him long. Harry was sitting on the steps, ear pressed against the wall.

"Did he leave?"

"Yes," Snape answered, considering his options before sitting on the step next to Harry.

"Good."

"You're certain it was Thelonious he was speaking to?" Snape asked, shifting slightly to look at the empty portrait frame.

"Yes," Harry replied, exhaling.

Severus stood and walked a few steps up the stairs to stand level with the portrait. "I'm beginning to think we should just burn the lot of them."

"There's too many of them."

Snape studied Harry. The boy's anger was gone, and now he was morose and brooding. "I've got to begin replenishing the supplies for the Hogwarts infirmary. Considering you spend half of your time there, perhaps you could help me brew some Pepper-Up Potion." As far as distractions went, that was about the best Snape could do.

Harry leaned back on the stairs, and tipped his head backwards so he could see Snape. "You seriously want me to help you with potions?"

"Even you can manage a simple first year potion."

Harry stared at him for another few seconds, before standing up and turning to face Snape. "Yeah, sure, I'll help."

A small smile of triumph on his face, he led Harry to his temporary lab.

The next morning when Harry glanced through the _Prophet_, he finally found reason to laugh. On the fourth page there was an article about Dolores Umbridge. Apparently, she had been admitted to Saint Mungo's with an 'unknown' curse that had left her unable to fulfill her duties at the Ministry. Harry made a note to ask Snape if he knew anything about that.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

Harry clenched the invitation he received by owl in his fist. He hadn't been sure if he'd still be welcomed at the wedding. Although it might be Bill and Fleur's he didn't want to cause any undue stress. Molly had already been panicking before he even left to go to Hogwarts and that was a month before the wedding itself.

Snape entered the room in time to see Harry crush the parchment in his hand. The boy didn't know it, but Snape screened his mail, sparing him from reading the hate mail of citizens who didn't want a king – particularly not one as strong as Harry Potter – so he knew it was the wedding invitation.

"I assume you plan on attending?" Snape asked.

"I don't know if I should," Harry admitted, smoothing down the invitation. The white ribbon at the top started to fray as he picked at it.

"I'm sure the Weasleys would understand, particularly since the press is sure to invade if you were present."

"I'm amazed they still invited me at all," Harry whispered, folding the invitation more gently this time, before pocketing it.

"What would you like to do, so I can plan accordingly?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to go. I mean, I want to, but I'm not going to turn Bill's wedding into a spectacle, just by showing up."

"I'm sure they'll understand."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, sure. I'm going to go and send my owl to let Mrs. Weasley know."

Snape watched Harry go, frowning at his defeated posture.

Harry sat beneath the window he'd just let Hedwig fly out of and hit his head gently against the ledge. He wanted to see his friends. He wanted to apologize to Ron for being a prick and he genuinely wanted to see Hermione. Harry missed them both; as hard as Snape tried it wasn't the same.

The next morning Harry received an owl from Remus, letting him know he was finally back and asking if he could come for a visit. Harry sent a reply right away, asking Remus to come as soon as he was able.

The return letter came within the hour and Harry wondered if Remus had already been on his way.

Harry made his way down to the room Snape had claimed as his lab and knocked softly. "Excuse me, Professor?"

"Yes?" Snape asked, carefully measuring out a vial of what looked like pus. Harry shuddered.

"I just wanted to let you know that Remus was going to be dropping by," Harry said, leaning against the doorframe. "What are you working on?"

"Do you honestly wish to know or are you just making idle conversation?"

Harry flushed and nudged the floor with his toe. "Idle conversation."

Snape snorted. "When is the wolf supposed to arrive?"

"Don't call him that," Harry said, scowling.

Snape rolled his eyes. "When is Lupin supposed to arrive? I actually need to pick up a few things from my lab at Hogwarts and I'd just as soon do it while he is here with you."

"He said within the hour."

Snape nodded. "I should be done here within thirty minutes. I should be gone by the time he arrives. Do you need anything while I'm out?"

"We're out of juice," Harry said, chuckling.

Again, Snape nodded. "Now go so I can get this done and leave before the... before your guest arrives," he said, waving Harry out of his lab.

Harry hovered in the doorway for another few seconds before vanishing around the corner and out of sight. 

Soon after Snape left, Harry walked out to the Apparation border and waited for Remus to arrive. It would be nice to see a face other than Snape's since he was going to be stuck here for the duration of the summer.

"Harry!"

Harry spun around and smiled as Remus approached him from a field off the road. He jogged over to where Remus was and without prompting enveloped him in a hug. "It's good to see you."

Remus chuckled in surprise, squeezing Harry tightly for a moment before standing back to look at him. "Well, you don't look any the worse for wear. Is Severus treating you well?"

"Yeah, it hasn't been half as bad as it could be, or I thought it'd be." Harry shrugged and laughed when Remus mussed his hair.

"Well, are you going to show me around?" Remus asked, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're going to see the library and drool like Snape does, aren't you?" he asked, walking toward the house.

"I'm sure I will," Remus joked. "But if you don't show it to me you'll never know, will you?"

Harry took him on a quick tour of the house. At least the parts he could navigate without getting lost. Eventually, they ended up sitting in the library drinking tea and catching up.

"I'm not going tomorrow," Harry said, his tone brooking no arguments. "I'm sorry."

Remus studied Harry over the rim of his teacup. "Believe it or not, Harry, I can understand your reasoning. The day should be about Bill and Fleur, and with you there the press will take the focus away from that. It's actually a very mature decision," he finished, sipping his tea. "However, knowing what is best for the situation doesn't make it any easier does it?"

"No, I miss them." 

"Have they been to visit yet?" 

"Ron came here once," Harry said, spinning his spoon between his fingers.

"And?" Remus asked, sensing there was more to the simple statement.

"We fought."

"Ah," Remus said, setting his cup on the table. "Does that have anything at all to do with not going to the wedding?"

Harry picked up his cup and held it close to his mouth as he mumbled, "Maybe a little."

Remus smiled. "As long as it's not the main reason. I hope you know that if ever you want to talk, you can owl me."

"I know," Harry said, grinning. He heard the opening and closing of a door. "Sounds like Snape's home."

Remus set down his teacup and stood. "I don't want to cause any tension, which there tends to be when Severus and I are in the same room. You'll owl me if you need me?"

Harry twisted in his chair as Remus headed towards the door. "Do you really have to go?"

"You know better than I what living with Severus is like, Harry."

"I'll owl you."

Remus nodded and smiled. "Good lad."

Harry watched Remus go and with a sigh, flopped back on to the couch.

Three days later, Harry was going mad being stuck in the manor all day. He dropped his piece of toast back onto the plate. "I need to get my school supplies."

"Either I can get them for you, or you can order by owl post," Snape said. "You're not eating enough," he added, nodding towards Harry's toast.

Harry shook his head. "Not hungry."

"If you're not going to eat, you're going to have to drink a supplemental potion, and I can guarantee it will not taste pleasant," Snape warned.

"Bastard." Harry picked up his toast and took a large bite out of it, and then chewed it obnoxiously, before swallowing.

Snape smirked. "So will I be making a trip to Diagon Alley, or are you just going to use an owl?"

"I'm really sick of being cooped up here," Harry said, tossing the toast onto his plate again.

"Are you saying you wish to go Diagon Alley?" Snape asked, surprised.

Harry nodded slowly. "I think I am."

"And you think that wise?"

"Nope," Harry answered, smiling.

"Would you like me to accompany you? No, strike that. I will be accompanying you."

Harry sniggered, and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "So, can I go?"

"So long as you don't blame me when you got mobbed by your adoring public. If you thought it was bad before, it's going to be much worse now."

"Can I hide behind you?" Harry asked cheerfully. He was finally getting out of this house, with its blank picture frames and odd hallways leading him astray. It was fascinating, but he wanted to go out. "I'll even let you hex especially frisky girls."

"Does that mean Draco has free rein with your person?" Snape asked, amused.

"And frisky boys!" Harry hurried to add. "Especially that one. Did I tell you I got another letter from him last week?"

"I warned you he would be persistent. What did he have to say this time?" Snape was in equal parts amused and concerned. The concern being that he would have to do something about Draco to get him to shift his attention elsewhere.

"I don't know," Harry admitted, color suffusing his cheeks. "I chucked it into the fire the moment I recognized the handwriting."

Snape snorted. "A wise choice. What time do you wish to leave?"

"Sometime this morning, before the afternoon crowds."

"Then lets go," Snape said, pouring his remaining tea down the sink. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I'll be able to relax."

"You won't have people throwing themselves at you asking you to marry them and give them your precious babies," Harry pointed out, bringing over his plate and glass as well.

"Potter, that happens to me on a daily basis, why do you think I spend so much time in my lab?" Snape deadpanned.

"Ah, so does that mean you're normally a god?"

"You've failed to notice?" Snape purred before walking out of the kitchen. "We don't have all day, Potter," he yelled over his shoulder.

Harry snapped his mouth shut and chased after Snape, meeting him by the front door.

They walked to the Apparation point together and once again, Snape stopped and looked at Harry, waiting.

"What?"

"Do you have your Apparation license?" Snape asked.

"Um, no," Harry replied, looking at Snape oddly. "But you knew that already."

"Do we need to go over this again?" Snape asked, holding out his hand.

"Oh, n-no," Harry said, grasping Snape's hand and moving closer.

"Good." Snape pulled Harry against his chest, and smiling smugly, Disapparated the two of them to Diagon Alley.

Harry stayed still as they Apparated in the back alley near the Leaky Cauldron. His hand clutched the back of Snape's shirt so he wouldn't stumble. Realizing just how pressed up against Snape he really was, Harry backed off and mumbled an apology.

Snape merely arched his brow, amused. "Let's see your list," he said, holding out his hand.

Harry pulled the crinkled parchment from his pocket and handed it over.

Snape quickly scanned Harry's letter and nodded. "Basic supplies first, books last."

Harry grinned, pocketing the list. They emerged from the alley and quickly entered the wizarding pub. Harry stuck to Snape's side as they wound their way through the tables, towards the back door leading to Diagon Alley. He lifted his hand to flatten his hair over his scar, but realized how futile a move that would be. Even with his scar covered, his face had been splashed over every tabloid for the past month; Harry reckoned anyone who wanted to recognize him would be able to with just one glance.

Before tapping the bricks that would lead them into the magical community, Snape stopped and studied Harry for a moment. "Hold still."

He pointed his wand and cast a spell that made Harry shiver. "What'd you do?"

"A simple Glamour and an aversion spell. You'll still look like you, but it won't make such an impression on people. If you keep your head down, we may get out of this unscathed."

Harry grinned crookedly. "I'm amazed we made it through the bar."

"Most the people in there are sleeping off the night before," Snape smirked, tapping the brick wall with his wand. The bricks moved apart, revealing the magical world Harry called home. Grinning broadly, he stepped through.

The crowded streets pressed against them on either side as people did their shopping, but none of them looked twice at Harry, but many did a double take of Snape.

"Are you sure you don't want to do what you did to me on yourself?"

"If they are looking at me, then they are not looking at you," Snape answered, scowling at a man who couldn't seem to stop staring. He pushed open the door to Flourish and Blotts and let Harry precede him inside. "Try not to dawdle."

Harry pulled out his list and set to work on getting all the supplies that he needed. After ten minutes of forcing his way through the small crowd, he managed to get all the books he needed except one. He milled through the stacks, his eyes scanning each and every author trying to find his new Defense book. His arms were growing tired, from the strain of holding six books.

"Potter."

Harry stiffened and turned slowly, suddenly remembering the featherlight charm and feeling stupid for not remembering he could use magic now outside of school.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, eyeing the blond warily.

Draco was smiling brightly. "You didn't respond to my last owl, I was worried. I'm pleased to see you are well. Shopping for school? May I carry those for you?" he asked, reaching for Harry's books.

Harry clutched his books a bit tighter. "I'm fine."

Draco smiled tightly when Harry pulled his books away. "So," he said, clapping his hands together. "Would you like to go for an ice cream cone? My treat, of course."

"I'd have to ask first," Harry hedged.

Draco looked surprised. "Ask? Who on earth do you need permission from, Potter? Er, Harry."

"Me," a voice drawled in Draco's ear, causing him to jump.

Draco's eyes danced between the two of them. "Professor Snape, so nice to see you."

"Sir, Malfoy wants to buy me an ice cream cone," Harry stated with forced politeness. "May he?"

Draco looked at Snape, confused. "What are you asking him for?"

A glare from Snape shut Draco up.

"If you wish," Snape answered, frowning.

Harry sighed and handed Snape his books and money to pay for them. He swallowed thickly and turned back to his year mate. "You've got twenty minutes to impress me, Malfoy."

Snape shoved the books back at Harry. "You will pay for them and I will accompany you."

"If you want to," Harry said, adjusting his books. One of them slipped and Malfoy caught it before quickly putting it back on top of Harry's pile. "Thanks."

"It's not a matter of want," Snape growled through clenched teeth.

"It isn't?" Harry asked, innocently. "Hang on, how could Malfoy see through the glamour from behind?"

"Malfoy has perhaps become a better Legilimens than I had believed," Snape said, eying Draco thoughtfully.

Draco merely smiled smugly.

"Can we just pay for these and go?" Harry groaned. He was going on a date. With Malfoy. Chaperoned.

"We're waiting on you, Potter," Snape pointed out, sneering.

"Just a minute then," Harry said, taking his books to the counter, glancing behind him to make sure nobody was hexing anyone else.

"So, are you Potter's new best friend now that he's royalty? Clever, Severus," Draco said, looking slyly at Snape.

"What I am is none of your business, Draco. I suggest you be on your best behavior."

Draco grinned. "I'm always on my best behavior."

Snape snorted. "Are you seriously interested in Potter, or is this merely a power play?"

Draco didn't answer right away. "What I'm doing is none of your concern."

"If it involves Potter, it's very much my concern," Snape returned.

"Since I'm the Potter in question, maybe we can all agree it's my concern and leave it at that. Are you ready, Malfoy?" Harry had come to stand between the two men.

"Of course, but please call me Draco."

Harry looked pained as he nodded in acceptance. "Fine, Draco, are you ready?"

"After you," Draco said, standing back and motioning toward the door with a blinding smile.

Snape rolled his eyes, and followed the two of them out the door.

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor was almost empty. Taking a glance at his wrist watch, Harry discovered it was barely eleven. Going into the cool store was a blessing after dragging his books, now lighter thanks to a charm, and quills and ink through the busy street.

"What do you want?" Draco asked, tipping his head to the side as his eyes raked over Harry's lithe form. Harry's jaw twitched at the intense scrutiny, but he didn't make a fuss over it, instead he answered, "Chocolate, please."

"Adventurous," Draco said, widening his eyes in exaggerated surprise.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry said, though it was said with humor instead of malice.

Sneering at the two of them, Snape found a chair in a darkened corner and waited for the nightmare to end.

"Don't mock the person with the money, Harry," Draco teased, swinging his coin purse in front of Harry's face and much to Harry's chagrin he began to laugh.

Snape fingered his wand, wondering if he could get away with hexing the two of them for their disgusting display.

"I'll have you know," Harry drawled. "I'm plenty rich enough on my own; I can pay for my own ice cream and will if you don't hurry up."

Draco laughed and tossed a Galleon on the counter top.

Harry bit his lip as he gazed around the empty parlor, his eyes resting on Snape for a brief moment, before settling back on Malfoy. "If only you were always this much fun to be around."

"What makes you think I'm not?" Draco asked, placing a hand on his chest in mock indignation.

"Because you're a prat?" Harry asked, taking his ice cream.

"All part of my charm," Draco assured him. "So why does Snape look like he's about to burst a vein?"

"I have absolutely no clue." Liar. "It isn't like we weren't prepared for a possible run in with someone."

"So you're a 'we' now?" Draco asked, leering at Harry and walking to a nearby table.

"There is no 'we', Malfoy. There is a 'you' and there is an 'I', and there is Snape, who looks ready to burst a vein, remember?"

"Or hex me," Draco said, smiling happily. "If I didn't know better, I'd say dear Severus is jealous."

Harry quirked a brow. "Snape? Jealous?"

Draco's grinned turned devious. "Don't hex me for this, it's just an experiment." He reached across the table and took Harry's hand, then sensually licked his ice cream cone.

The sound of a table slamming into a wall had Draco jumping back in his seat.

Harry stared down at his licked ice cream cone in bewilderment, and then over at Snape who was currently spelling a broken table back together again. His face burned hotly and the only thing he could think to do to stop his blush was to lick some of his ice cream.

"That was fun," Draco said, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry. "You're cute when you blush," he added.

"Snape really just broke a table?" Harry asked meekly, ignoring Malfoy's last comment completely.

"Yeah, his eye is twitching too. Ah, Snape-baiting, always good for a laugh." Draco sighed happily.

"You're lucky," Harry grumbled, licking a straight sweep around the top of the cone where the ice cream was melting. He couldn't explain this easy conversation with Malfoy, but he wasn't going to push it. It was just too damned hot to fight. "You were always his favorite. If I tried something like that I'd be hexed to a point beyond recognition."

"Point to you," Draco conceded. "So why is Snape being your guard dog? Did you hire him to protect you?"

Harry didn't know whether to be glad that Draco had stopped kissing up to him, or upset that he wanted to talk about Snape.

"It's complicated," Harry said, staring at his ice cream.

"Can't be that complicated."

Harry looked up at him with a half frown. "He put me under a Glamour."

"Oh, well that explains everything," Draco said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Look, if you plan on talking about Snape the whole time," Harry began.

"Relax, Potter."

"What happened to Harry?"

"Harry," Draco amended. "It's pure curiosity I assure you. It's not every day you'd find Harry Potter and Severus Snape in the same company, willingly."

"Why are you suddenly so interested in me, Malfoy?"

"What happened to Draco?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Draco. I can't help but notice you started owling after the Prophet made their little announcement."

Draco popped a spoonful of his own ice cream into his mouth, taking an obscene amount of time cleaning the spoon, before answering, "My father and mother thought it would be best to attempt to win your 'favor'."

"If you're capable of telling the truth, now would be a good time. Do you really have any interest in me whatsoever?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. "Not particularly, no. If I had I would have made a move long before that Prophet article."

Harry felt himself relax. "Good to know. So this is all to make your parents happy?"

"If you'd be so kind as to feign a little interest back, I would appreciate it. I have things, and people, I'd rather be doing, no offense."

"None taken," Harry assured him, smiling.

"I just want them off my back."

"I know what you mean."

"So, I propose this. I act like I'm chasing you and you pretend you're letting yourself be caught, and we'll do whatever we want in the meantime."

"And when there is nothing to show for it in the end? Are your parents going to be angry?"

Draco snorted. "Of course, but it wouldn't be the first time. They'll get over it."

Harry gazed at Draco uncertainly. The plan was actually pretty good. It would have benefits for both of them. "I don't know, Mal- Draco."

"Consider me a buffer against the rest of the student body who now see you as the Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor, which I'm still not happy about by the way. Bad enough you have to steal my glory, but now you're stealing my title."

"Does it make you feel better to know I hate that title?"

Draco thought for a moment. "No, not really. So, have we got a deal?"

"Wait, what's this whole thing going to entail? I'm not going to be walking the halls holding your hand or anything, I'll tell you that right now."

"Don't be absurd. Until school starts, respond to my owls, tell me how handsome I am, so when my parents read my mail, as they are wont to do, they'll be happy. Once school starts, I'll scare off anyone who tries to date you, unless you tell me otherwise. Everyone wins."

"Until Snape blows up another table," Harry pointed out with a small smile.

"Added bonus," Draco said, grinning.

Harry licked his lips, shooting an anxious glance towards Snape in the corner, before finally sticking out his hand. "Mr. Malfoy, you've got yourself a deal."

"Excellent," Draco smiled, taking Harry's hand and shaking it. Holding it a little longer than necessary, just to irritate Snape. "When you get home, send me an owl extolling my many virtues," Draco said, rising to his feet.

"It might take me a while," Harry said with an easy smile. The plan was beginning to sound better and better. He didn't have to make any actual physical contact with Malfoy, and since Malfoy had to act determined it would mean there wouldn't be any fights. "Since I've never given any thought to your virtues."

"Alright, this time you can just thank me for taking you out for ice cream. You can do my virtues tomorrow."

"You really are a prat, you know," Harry said, but he couldn't help but smile.

Malfoy leaned forward and whispered in Harry's ear. "Don't look now, but Snape's about to kill me." Draco pulled back. "See you later, Harry." He waved at Snape. "See you at school, Professor," and walked out the door with a spring in his step.

Harry watched him go, faintly amused. But that amusement died the moment he caught sight of Snape's face. Harry got up and moved over to where Snape was standing by the door.

"Sir?"

"If you're finished, Potter, I have work I could be doing," Snape said, and Harry couldn't miss the tenseness in his jaw.

"I'm done, we can go back," Harry answered, unsure if he should be amused or worried.

Snape nodded and stalked to the door, waiting outside while Harry grabbed his bags and went out to meet him. Snape pulled Harry into a nearby alley and without a word, wrapped his arms around him, and Disapparated.

When they arrived back outside Potter Manor, Snape released Harry abruptly and he found himself on the ground, staring back up into the Potion Master's scowling face. Snape turned and stalked back to the manor.

Harry stared after him, his heart thudding painfully slow in his chest. "What?"

The only answer he received was the slamming of the door.

Harry blinked stupidly at the door. "What the hell just happened?"

An hour later, Snape found Harry in the kitchen, standing at the sink. The boy's back was turned away from him, shoulders hunched and he was in a perfect sulk.

"I'm going to go and spend some time in the garden. You're welcome to join me if you wish."

Harry stared at him some more and nodded. "Sure."

The made their way out to the gardens, each to their own area and began to work. "Professor?"

"Hmm?"

"There was an article in the Prophet about Dolores Umbridge being under some curse. I don't suppose you would know anything about that."

The sound of dirt being tilled stopped and Harry looked up to see Snape watching him carefully.

"That depends."

Harry pulled at a weed that was growing too close to the bellflower. "Depends on what?"

"On whether the information I give you goes any further than between us."

"Of the few secrets we share, have I ever actually told anyone any of them?"

Snape thought, then nodded. "I'm afraid Dolores found herself in front of a rather nasty hex gone awry."

"What kind of hex?" Harry asked, grinning.

"It was quite painful, and I'm afraid it's going leave some nasty scars." Snape said, as if he were describing what was for dinner. "First it was boils, uncomfortable to be sure, but nothing life threatening. When the Healers applied the normal salve for it, things got very bad for poor Umbridge. You see, the salve mixed with the boils caused a reaction they were not prepared for. The boils did go away, but the fluid in the boils combined rather well with her blood. Now every time the poor woman thinks badly about someone, the ink/fluid mixtures will come out of her skin and write a tattoo across any particular body part saying exactly what she was thinking. I don't think she'll be going to many Ministry parties."

Harry had never seen such a joyously smug smile on Snape's face.

"I was rather impressed with it myself. It was time for the old bint to pay for some of her sins. I knew you'd be upset if I killed her, so I went with this option." His smile was still smug, and his dark eyes were shining.

"It's the better option, to be certain," Harry agreed, shaking his head. "But you didn't have to do it, you know."

"She messed with something that is now mine and under my protection. She hurt you, she paid the consequences, it's as simple as that."

Harry gaped at him for a long moment, before flushing a brilliant shade of red and throwing himself back into his gardening. 


	13. Chapter Twelve

  


**Chapter Twelve**

_**August 1570**_

I have sent Gretchen away. Yes, I am a selfish bastard, but with all the unrest I need Thelonious to be focused and he can't when the wench won't leave him alone. I know I'm thinking clearer.

**August 1570**

I went to him tonight, I believe we both needed it. I should have left his bed, but I felt so safe and secure in his arms, that I stayed until morning. I told Helena we stayed up discussing strategy in dealing with the growing Muggle threat. She knows I'm lying to her and I hate that I hurt her again. But I needed him tonight and I believe he needed me.

**September 1570**

Helena caught us. I do not know what to do. I do not wish to send her away, but I may have to and that troubles me. She would take little Jamie without a doubt. I cannot imagine what this place would be like without his laughter echoing the halls.

**September 1570**

She said she does not mind. That she is not hurt because she already knew and accepted it. I do not believe her, but I cannot confront her any time soon. I must go and strengthen the wards in the morning. They were almost breached today and I regret not having sent Helena away, even if it would have been for selfish reasons at the time.

**September 1570**

Helena and Jamie have gone to the Manor with a large contingent of guards. It's my head the populace wants on a pike, so I hope and pray she and Jamie stay safe. I also sent two of my most powerful wizards to ensure the wards on the Manor are secure enough.

Thelonious is here now and I must go. I wish loving him didn't have to hurt so many people, but I do love him.

Harry sighed as he read the last few passages over again twice. He couldn't begin to imagine that type of stress, and it just strengthened his resolve to never resume the crown. He didn't want those kinds of problems, and knowing his luck, he would have them.

He wished he could speak to Thelonious again, or really for the first time. He didn't think the words 'You'll do' counted as a conversation. He still didn't even know what he would do. It made absolutely no sense, and not for the first time that month did he curse Ron for not opening his gob and tell him what he had been told.

Harry flipped back to the empty pages and began to write:

_**September 1, 1997**_

I wonder if I'm the only person in the world who feels like they're talking to themselves by writing in a journal. Oh well, I feel like I should fill up these empty pages.

Ron's talking to me and trying to act normal, but I can tell he's hiding something. I know if I bring it up again, we'll just fight, so I guess we'll keep ignoring it. I have a feeling he's told Hermione though, which irritates me.

I have Potions tomorrow with Snape. I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to it or dreading it. I don't know what to make of him anymore. Things were easier when he was a complete bastard. At least then I knew what to expect. Disdain, anger, disappointment. Ever since my 'date' with Draco, he's been weird. Draco called it jealousy, but that can't be it. Can it?

I want to change my name. This one has caused me nothing but trouble.

"Hey," Ron said as he entered the boy's dorm.

"Hey," Harry replied, closing the journal. Despite the fact that nobody but him could see the writing in the journal, he cast a locking charm on it anyway.

Ron fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve and he took a step closer. "Are you really dating Malfoy?" he blurted out.

"Where'd you hear that?" Harry asked, figuring he'd let Ron hang a bit before answering.

"Lavender."

Harry's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Why'd she think that?"

"Well, her family is Pureblood and there's a sort of ranking...and well..."

"What?"

"She would know because she is not too far below on lists of potential candidates after Parkinson and Neville actually."

Harry shook his head. "Ron, start at the beginning. Ranking for what, exactly?"

Ron flushed. "You've only had a letter from Malfoy, right?"

"Not exactly," Harry hedged. "We went out. Sort of."

Ron winced. "You did?"

"Yeah, I did." Harry made a face and shrugged. "It wasn't as bad as it could have been."

"Spare me the details, Harry; I don't want to know them."

Shrugging again, Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "But what does that have to do with ranking?"

"Your date?" Harry nodded. "Malfoy got to go first because of blood status and wealth. If Sirius had ever had a child, that child would have been next in line to ask you out, or even to ask you to marry. It goes on from there."

"And you know this, why?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling panicky. Snape hadn't been kidding when he had said this wasn't going to be easy.

"We might be dirt poor, Harry," Ron said sharply, "but our family is still Pureblood and in some circles we still hold some power."

Harry's face drained of color, "That's not what I meant, Ron."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm going to meet Hermione in the library."

"Ron! I didn't mean it like that."

"Save it, Harry. Just, save it."

Harry's mouth snapped shut and he glared at the redhead's retreating back. "Git."

Ron stiffened, his shoulder muscles tensing, moving again he slammed the door behind him.

A month ago it would have been inconceivable, but today there was no way around it. Harry actually wanted to go and spend time with Snape. At least he would explain this whole rank business to him.

He half expected Hermione to burst through the door at any moment to lecture him on being mean to Ron. Swiping his journal, he flung his legs over his bed and stood. He didn't want to think about Ron's accusation, he didn't want to think about how he was supposed to meet Draco tomorrow to start putting their plan into action. He just wanted to hide, and there was only one place he knew he could.

Harry went to his trunk and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. He was getting a bit too tall for it now, but he didn't mind crouching a bit, just as long as he could get out of the common room without having to answer a million questions.

He was lucky, this time, he doubted the luck would hold for long, and made it through the common room without bumping into anybody. Once out in the hallway, he tugged the cloak off. Curfew didn't occur for about another twenty minutes, just enough time to make it to Snape's quarters.

The halls were surprisingly empty, then again, it was the first night back and everyone was probably in their common rooms catching up. It's where he would normally be if his life hadn't veered onto this bizarre track.

The solitary journey gave him more time to think than he would have liked. He hadn't heard back from Remus since two weeks before and that worried him. He had been receiving two letters every week, short ones, but they at least told him Remus was okay. If Remus had been around, Harry reckoned he would have sought him out now instead of Snape, the perpetrator of most of his problems.

He had a feeling that Snape wasn't going to be pleased to see him, but he really was past the point of caring. If all else failed, he could order the man to let him in. On second thoughts, that would probably be the worst thing he could do.

But it was an option, one he would use if he had to.

Plucking up his nerve, after all, he hadn't done anything to piss off Snape yet today, he knocked on the door.

When the door opened, Snape's face went from irritated, to surprised and irritated.

"You're not one of my Slytherins."

"There once was a good chance I could have been," Harry stated, ducking beneath Snape's arm and entering his room.

"Do come in," Snape muttered, closing the door and following after Harry. "We're no longer at the manor, Potter; you can't just come and go as you please."

Harry arched a brow as he sat down on the sofa, but said nothing.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked, exasperated.

"Sitting on your couch," Harry quipped, setting his journal on his lap.

"Yes, but why are you sitting on my couch? Your common room has a perfectly serviceable couch."

"With plenty of people perfectly willing to talk to me."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Potter, I will only ask you one more time. Why are you here?" he growled.

"Because Ron hates me, and I won't be able to get the answers I want from him. Like this thing about 'ranking'."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Ranking?"

"I don't get it either," Harry said, gripping the leather-bound journal. "He said it had something to do with the fact that Malfoy got to ask me out first. I really don't understand why."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Ah, that." He sat in the chair across from Harry, resting his elbows on the armrest, steepling his fingers together. "The only people who take that seriously are the Purebloods themselves, and only if it will benefit them somehow. However, I have no doubt the Pureblood families are using the archaic system to jockey for position when it comes to you."

He tapped his bottom lip, studying Harry. "The fact that you chose Draco to focus your attentions is merely a coincidence they will use to foster their belief in the ranking system."

"Of course it is," Harry groaned.

"Are we done now?" Snape asked, not in the mood to discuss the love life Potter should be having.

Harry frowned. "Why are you trying to kick me out?"

"As I told you before, Potter, we are at school, not the manor. It's inappropriate for you to be here."

"I was here during the summer," Harry pointed out.

"Which was completely different. During the summer, school was not in session, I was not your Professor. As such, this," he said, waving his hand around, "is inappropriate."

"Sitting on your couch is inappropriate?" Harry repeated slowly. "What next? Looking at you in the Great Hall?"

"Merlin, Potter, have you no sense of propriety?" Snape sighed, giving up the battle. "Fine, sit on my couch, but under no circumstances do you touch my liquor."

"I think we already established that alcohol and I don't mix well," Harry mumbled.

"You were at the feast, so I assume you've eaten, or do I need to get your elf to bring you something?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Then what are your plans, now that you have invaded my space?"

Harry bit his lip. "Can I crash here tonight?"

"No, absolutely not. Out of the question."

"Please?" Harry begged.

"If you can convince the Headmaster, then you may. Good luck," he added, sneering.

"I really don't want to go back up there tonight," Harry mumbled with a sigh.

"Use my Floo and get permission," Snape reiterated.

"You know he won't give it," Harry snapped.

"Just. Ask."

"You're so infuriating!" Harry stalked over to the fireplace and picked up a handful of Floo powder. He kneeled on the brick base of the fireplace and tossed the handful in before calling out for the Headmaster's office.

"Come in, Harry" a voice called through the Floo.

Harry pulled his head back and stood up, reaching for some more Floo powder, he tossed it in once again calling out: "The headmaster's office!" and vanished from sight.

"Good evening, Harry. I must say, I hadn't expected to see you tonight. What can I do for you, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, smiling.

"Professor, I was wondering if I could sleep on Professor Snape's couch tonight," Harry asked in a rush, before he could let himself back out.

Dumbledore frowned and thought for a good long moment. "As he is your Steward, I see no harm in it. In fact, I think it's a splendid idea!"

Harry laughed, running a hand down his face. "Really? I can?"

"Of course. I'll have an Elf take down what you will need for the evening," Dumbledore said, still smiling. "Was that all, my boy?"

"Yes," Harry answered, still grinning broadly. "Thank you, Professor."

"Have a fine evening, Harry. Feel free to use the Floo to return. I'm sure Professor Snape is eagerly awaiting your arrival."

Harry shook his head and moved back towards the fireplace. Maybe being a Potter wasn't all that bad after all.

He stumbled out of the Floo, landing at Snape's feet.

Snape was scowling at Harry. "You know where the door is. See yourself out."

"I got permission to stay," Harry announced as if he hadn't heard what Snape had said.

"What?" Snape snapped. "What was the old fool thinking!"

Harry couldn't help his next words because he knew the look on Snape's face would be priceless. "Yeah, he's also alright with us sharing your bed. I sleep on the left side, is that a problem?

"He agreed to what!" Snape roared, blotches of red appearing on his cheeks. Harry smirked, but he couldn't stay that nonchalant for long, and after a few seconds peals of laughter echoed around the room.

"I'm kidding!" Harry finally said when his laughter subsided. "Well, not about staying the night, I got permission for that, but we said nothing about the bed."

He flopped back down onto the couch and stretched out across it. "I don't know why you're shirty about this."

Snape's hands were clenched in fists at his side. "I will not be the butt of your jokes, Potter," he snarled through clenched teeth.

Harry sat up rapidly. "Why are you being such a bastard all of the sudden? What did I do wrong?"

"I had to tolerate your father's mockery, I will not tolerate it from you!"

Harry glared at him. "What mockery?"

"Sharing my bed is a great joke to you, isn't? Ha ha," Snape said, sneering.

"You- you confuse me," Harry muttered, raking a hand through his hair.

Snape sighed, his anger deflating. "Why are you here, Potter?" he asked again.

"Because, despite what you clearly think, I do like being around you."

Snape began rubbing his temples. "Merlin, you give me a headache."

"S'your fault for not taking a joke the way jokes are meant to be taken," Harry retorted glumly.

"I am not accustomed to jokes that are not at my expense," Snape said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the chair.

Harry stared at Snape uncertainly, before reaching for the abandoned journal. He wanted to ask Snape what had happened during the day to make him so edgy, but at that point he didn't dare. Taking out his wand, he cast a soft summoning charm for a quill which flew swiftly from a desk in the corner of the room.

Snape opened his eyes, looking at Harry through hooded eyes. "You really plan on sleeping here?"

"It's better here than in the dorm." Harry pressed the nub of the quill against the next blank page in the journal and smiled as ink flowed freely.

"I'll never understand you, Potter," Snape said wearily. "I'm going to my room to read." He summoned a pillow and blanket for Harry. "Goodnight, Potter."

Harry looked up from his writing and smiled. "Night."

Around midnight, Snape decided something was needed to help him sleep, since he was tired of staring at the dark ceiling.

He left his room and found Potter asleep on the couch, his journal open and quill in hand. "Lovely, drip ink all over my couch," he murmured, sliding the quill from limp fingers. The journal was still open, and Snape couldn't resist seeing what Harry had written.

Bending closer, so he wouldn't knock Harry's hands away and make the journal go blank, he began to read.

**_September 1, 1997_**__

I don't get him at all, and it's not from a lack of trying either. I want to understand him. I really do and it's frustrating that I can't figure the bastard out. He's so hot and cold with me, one minute flirting – that's still strange to think about Snape and flirting – and the next minute shutting down and pushing me away.

What does he want from me? Doesn't he understand that I want him to like me more and I have for over a year now?

Snape stepped back, his brow furrowed in thought. Flirting? Apparently his attempts at subtle seduction hadn't been as subtle as he thought. As for understanding him, Snape wasn't certain the boy ever could. He didn't understand himself half of the time.

It was true; he spent as much time pushing Harry away as he did trying to bring him closer. He sighed. He knew nothing about relationships or how to make them work. His previous relationships had been dysfunctional at best and horrible more often than not.

Snape walked to his bathroom and got a mild sleep potion from the cabinet. He drank it on the way back to his room. Now he just needed it to work before he thought any more about Potter, relationships, or anything else.

The next morning if possible was even more awkward than the night before. Harry clutched the journal close to his chest, eyeing Snape as if he was going to evict him forcibly from his spot on the couch.

"I'm going to breakfast," Snape informed him. "Please do me the courtesy of Flooing to your common room. If you were to be seen leaving my quarters, too many questions would arise.

"Wouldn't Flooing into the common room raise even more?"

"If someone asks, tell them you came from the Headmaster's office," Snape said, shrugging. "Or you can wear that infernal cloak," he said, motioning to the pile of cloth on the floor, "to make your escape."

Harry stood and picked it up, fingering the material. "It's never failed me before."

"It's made my life a living hell," Snape said, disgusted.

Harry's gaze dropped to the floor. "I suppose it did."

"Can you find your way out? I've got to go before my Slytherins hatch a plot at breakfast."

Harry pulled the cloak around his shoulders. "I found my way here, didn't I?"

"Cheeky," Snape said, not unkindly. "I'll see you in class, Potter."

Harry headed towards the door, and called over his shoulder. "Have a good day, sir."

Snape waited until Harry was out the door before saying softly, "You too, Potter."

Sighing, Snape made his way to breakfast before his Slytherins poisoned the Gryffindors' pumpkin juice. 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_Yes, this fic will continue to be as AU as it was before DH, and yes, I will be finishing all my other fics that I have been updating semi-frequently. Also, expect me to be posting random one-shot's every so often as I work off steam from DH. They may or may not stay posted. _

_ I have currently disabled anonymous commenting, cause the anonymice have nothing nice to say today. I'm sorry if you usually post anonymously and can't today.  
_

* * *

** Chapter Thirteen**

"Where were you, Harry?"

The noise in the common room stopped. Harry shifted uncomfortably as about ten sets of eyes landed on him in curiosity.

"Yeah, mate, ya didn' come back last night," Seamus piped up.

Harry shot him a dirty look as Hermione's frown deepened. "Why does it matter?"

Seamus' face fell before scowling at Harry. "Excuse me for caring, Your Kingship," he muttered, just loud enough for Harry to hear.

"I was...in the infirmary," he said, not feeling at all guilty for the lie.

"No, you weren't," Hermione said, now glaring at him. "Ron and I went and checked there this morning. No one was there and Madam Pomfrey says she hasn't seen anyone yet this year."

Harry flinched. "I've got to get my things for class," he said, brushing passed them.

Hermione grabbed his arm as he passed. "Harry, wait. We're just worried about you."

Harry looked at her, and the look in her eye was enough to inspire the guilt he should have felt before. "We'll talk later, okay?" he said, glancing around at the people in the room, most of which were staring at him.

"We will," Hermione agreed in a tone that clearly stated she wouldn't forget that promise.

Harry nodded, then took the stairs two at a time to his dorm room.

He had been half tempted to skip breakfast, but that would be hiding, and that was one thing he didn't want to do anymore. He spent the entire summer hiding, and while the break had been wonderful, it was over now.

He ignored the looks he got as he walked through the halls to breakfast, and tuned out the whispers as he passed. He entered the Great Hall, and everything got quiet, followed by a stream of whispers. He glanced up at Snape, who rolled his eyes.

Harry smiled, and sat down at the Gryffindor table, happy in the fact that someone else in the room found it all ridiculous.

"Harry," Hermione greeted cautiously. Harry looked at her oddly as he poured himself some pumpkin juice.

He took a sip of his juice trying to ignore all the stares. Something had happened, aside from the normal. "What?"

"Did you—were you with Malfoy last night?"

Harry nearly spit out his drink. "What?"

Frowning, Hermione handed him a napkin. "Honestly, Harry, you can't blame me for asking."

"Who told you that?" Harry asked.

"Everybody's been saying it," Ron muttered, not meeting Harry's eyes.

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't seem to matter what I do, people are going to talk. I suggest you ignore them."

"That's not an answer, Harry."

"Hermione, I -"

"Good morning, Harry."

Harry turned to find Malfoy right behind him. "Morning Ma- Draco," Harry said, forcing a smile.

Draco bent down and whispered in his ear. "Smile and laugh like I told you something amazingly witty."

Harry did just that, and the whispering around him intensified, which actually made him laugh harder.

Draco was smiling smugly. "See you later, Harry."

"See you," Harry replied, still grinning.

He glanced up at the head table to find Snape's eyes following Draco. He looked like he wanted to kill him.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ron?" He brought his gaze back down to his friends surrounding him and almost ended up laughing again.

"Glad you're finding this all so amusing, mate," Ron said, getting up from the bench.

"Ron!" Harry snapped in frustration.

Hermione gripped the back of Ron's shirt and tugged. "Sit down, Ron."

"I've lost my appetite," Ron said, shrugging away from Hermione.

"It doesn't matter, you are sitting down and you are waiting for the rest of us to finish."

"Fine," Ron muttered, resuming his seat and grabbing a muffin, ignoring Harry altogether.

Harry toyed with his glass for a few seconds, before slamming down his goblet and turning to face Ron.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"You really want to have it out here, Harry? In front of everyone?" Ron snapped, looking around them.

"I want to know what the hell I did that made you hate me," Harry bit out.

"Hmm, let's see: You basically tossed me out of your house… You're dating _Malfoy_, thanks for telling me yourself mate, really appreciate that... All this king bullshit it going to your head!... Oh, and let's not forget about Snape, your new best friend."

"I would have told you if you hadn't stopped writing to me!"

"If you had written to me, I would have written back!" Ron snapped.

Harry scowled. "Would you?"

"Yes! Maybe," he added, frowning. "I don't know, you were being such a prat."

"I was not!" Harry groaned.

"Personally, I think you're both being prats and you're making spectacles of yourself!" Hermione huffed.

"He started it!" They both shouted as one.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, eyes wide, then burst into laughter.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Are you two quite finished?"

"I'm done," Harry said, pouring himself some pumpkin juice.

Ron reached for the eggs. "Yeah, I'm done. Don't know why you get yourself so worked up, Hermione."

Harry grinned, and leaned over closer to Ron. "And for the record," he whispered so no one else could hear, "I'm not dating Malfoy."

"I might just have my appetite back," Ron said, reaching for the thick slices of ham.

"You mean it was lost?" Hermione asked, smirking.

Ron merely grinned, and for the first time in quite a while, Harry actually felt normal.

Classes ran smoothly that morning, which Harry was thankful for. Now that he and Ron had cleared the air, things were settling better. He promised both Ron and Hermione that during their first break he'd explain what was up with him and Malfoy, and suddenly he was nervous about that.

He couldn't decide if he wanted to tell them about his first 'date' or not. And if he did tell them, how much of it would he relate. For some reason, he didn't want to tell them about Malfoy's experiment with Snape. He still didn't understand Snape's reaction.

In the end, he told them the deal he and Malfoy had made, sparing any of the details of their 'date'. He was beginning to think of it as more like a business meeting. Harry would tell them about Snape when he had something more substantial to tell them. Telling them where he spent the night though, was another matter entirely.

"So if you weren't with Malfoy, where were you last night?"

Harry flushed and stared down at his hands that were clenched into fists. "I was with Snape," Harry mumbled.

"Come again?"

Harry looked up to see Hermione staring at him in amusement. Ron appeared confused.

"I said I was down with Snape last night, happy?"

"You slept with Snape?" Ron squeaked, looking horrified.

"Of course not!" Harry cried, looking around to make sure nobody had heard. "I fell asleep on the couch!"

"Couldn't he get into trouble for that?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "I got permission."

"Dumbledore knows?" Ron cried.

"Ron! Keep your voice down!" Harry cried. "He's my Steward, or whatever, and it's not like I didn't spend most of the summer with him."

"You slept in Snape's rooms!" Ron continued as if he hadn't heard his last comment.

"On his couch," Harry repeated. "Please, I don't want to fight with you again."

Hermione put her hand over Ron's mouth.

"What are his quarters like?" Hermione asked, obviously curious. "I've always pictured them in deep greens with dark wood."

Harry sniggered. "Honestly, I saw very little green in his rooms. It had...I guess earth tones. Browns and grays and the like. There's really not much to see. His rooms aren't all that spectacular."

"Interesting. What about books? I always imagined he'd have loads of books," she continued.

"Yeah, there were a lot of those," Harry answered, smiling.

Ron gazed at Hermione, betrayed. "Why are you so interested in Snape then?"

"Oh come on, Ron, you've never been curious?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

Ron shook his head, eyes wide. "No, I try not to think of Snape at all."

Harry laughed outright. "Don't worry, Hermione, you really aren't missing much."

"Did you finish reading the journal? The one Carlisle wrote?" She made a frustrated noise. "I would _love_ to get my hands on that. It's like a part of history, first hand."

"It's not just Carlisle who wrote in it," Harry said, glancing around the common room, "Snape made me read an entry from the 1800's in there, and I've sort of been writing in it too."

"Really?" Ron asked, smirking. "I thought only girls wrote in journals," he teased.

"Ronald!" Hermione said, elbowing him as Harry blushed.

"What?"

Hermione shook her head and smiled fondly at the redhead beside her. "You're exceptionally thick."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ron huffed.

Harry glanced down at his wristwatch and sighed. "Break's almost over guys."

"If we're late for Potions, can't you just order Snape to not give us detentions?" Ron asked hopefully.

"No!" Harry and Hermione answered together.

"Okay, okay, it was just a joke," Ron said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Mostly."

"I can, but I won't," Harry told him firmly.

"I know. I know!" Ron exclaimed.

Potions was odd for a variety of reasons. For one, it was strangely _normal,_ all things considered. Snape was irritable and demanding and didn't cut Harry the least bit of slack. Harry was partnered with Malfoy, which wasn't bad at all. Apparently, deception made Malfoy a happier person. But the closer Draco got, and the more he flirted with Harry, the angrier Snape seemed to become.

"His eye is twitching again," Draco whispered happily into Harry's ear.

"You enjoy goading him, don't you?" Harry hissed.

"Yes, I rather do," Draco admitted, grinning. "I seldom have the opportunity, so this is just a bonus."

"Well knock it off!" Harry hissed back.

Draco smirked. "Why?"

"Because he won't get angry at you," Harry whined. "He'll get angry at me!"

Draco put an arm around Harry's shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Which makes it more fun for me."

"Mister Malfoy! This is a classroom, not a social event! Keep your hands to yourself!" Snape snapped, though his eyes were boring into Harry.

"Yes, Professor," Draco answered congenially, going back to cutting up potion ingredients.

Harry kept his eyes on his work, unwilling to meet the dark eyes that he knew were looking at him.

After class, Harry hung behind, reluctantly letting Draco mime kissing his cheek as he left. Snape's eyes hadn't left him since the middle of the lesson. Once the last student left, Harry moved forward so he was standing before Snape's desk.

"Professor, may I speak with you?"

"Make it quick, I have another class," Snape snapped, turning to erase the board by hand.

"Sir, about Draco—"

Snape whirled on him, slamming his hands on the top of his desk. "I don't want to hear about your sordid love life!"

"What sordid love life?" Harry shouted back.

Snape was seething, that much was obvious.

"I have no bloody love life!" Harry looked around, lowering his voice. "I'm using him to keep the rest of the students off my back, and he's using me to keep his parents happy; not that I owe you any explanations!"

Harry waited, tension building in all his limbs as he fought the urge to follow Snape's example and slam his fist against the top of the desk.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Harry repeated in shock.

Two Ravenclaws chose that moment to walk in the door. "Good day, Potter," Snape said, turning his back on Harry.

Harry shot the two girls the nastiest glare he could muster as he swept by them out of the classroom.

Snape wasn't the least bit surprised by the pounding on his door shortly after dinner. Nor was he surprised when Harry brushed past him with a growled, "We need to talk." He was, however, surprised at how badly he wanted to flee.

"Well, spit it out, Potter, some of us have other activities we wish to pursue."

Harry rounded on him, pushing a finger against his chest. "What the fuck is your problem!"

"If you continue to poke me, your problem will be a missing finger," Snape growled, grabbing Harry's hand.

Harry glowered, tugging futilely on his trapped hand. "It might be worth the risk if I get to find out why you're so angry with me!"

"I'm not angry with you, imbecile!" Snape growled, tightening his hold on Harry's hand.

"You're not happy with me, that's for certain."

"I want you, Potter, you ignorant whelp!" Snape growled, shoving Harry.

Harry stumbled backwards. Gingerly he rubbed his wrist as he stared in bewilderment at Snape. "You—you what?"

"You heard me," Snape said, sneering. "Now would be a good time to leave, Potter."

"But—you hate me," Harry stressed.

"By all means, keep telling yourself that," Snape growled, sweeping past Harry. "You can see yourself out!"

"No, you hate me! You can't want me because you hate me!" Harry argued, reaching out for the back of Snape's robes as he passed.

Snape turned, pushing Harry backwards until he was pressed up against the wall. "I warned you," he snarled angrily. His lips met Harry's in a kiss that bordered on violent.

Harry stilled, his eyes widening in surprise. He let out a muffled protest that went unheeded. Snape stopped, stumbling backwards, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robes. "Get out."

Harry didn't need to be told twice.

He had almost made to the stairs leading out of the dungeons, when someone called his name.

"Potter!" Harry turned and saw Draco walking towards him, an amused expression on his face.

"Not now, Malfoy."

"Why not now?"

Harry sighed. "Really, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood."

"As your ever-attentive boyfriend," Draco said, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders and steering him back toward the dungeons, "I must insist."

Harry groaned. "You're not going to leave me alone are you?"

"Nope, too many people watching. My parents would be sorely disappointed. So give, what happened? Did Snape hex you for being unfaithful?" Draco drawled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Harry shook his head, feeling his face begin to burn. "No, he definitely didn't hex me."

"You're blushing! Harry, was there inappropriate touching? I've asked him not to do that."

Harry shrugged him off. "Fuck off, Malfoy!"

"Now, now Harry, none of that."

Harry stopped in the corridor and turned to face the arrogant blond prat. "Snape tried to suck out my innards through my lips. Happy?"

Draco blinked, then laughed uproariously. "Was it any good?"

"What do you mean was it good?"

"Was it any good?" Draco repeated, slower. "Come on, Potter, you've got to have kissed someone before."

"Y-yes," Harry stammered. "But never a guy!"

"Same concept," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Don't make me ask you again, Potter. How was it, because I can't even imagine."

"It was weird. He had me pinned to a wall," Harry mumbled.

"I always figured Snape liked it rough. Okay, pinned to the wall. What happened next?" Draco asked, and Harry couldn't help but think Draco was a little too excited about all of this.

"Like I said, he molested my mouth."

Draco grinned, his fingers trailing up Harry's arm. "If you'd like, out of the goodness of my heart, I can show you what a real kiss is like."

Harry froze. "You want to what?"

"Don't worry, I'm too much of a gentlemen to shove you up against the wall. Unless you're into that sort of thing. So how about it? Fancy a snog?"

"I—I," Harry stuttered as Malfoy advanced on him.

"Relax, Harry. You'll enjoy it, I promise," Draco whispered, pausing a hair's breadth away from Harry's lips, giving him a chance to say no, or shove him off.

Harry couldn't move and Draco took the opportunity to seal Harry's lips with his own. The kiss was certainly different from Snape's. There wasn't the fear that his lips were going to sliced open by Draco's teeth, for one thing, and the back of his head wasn't digging into a stone wall for another.

But beyond that...

"Potter, have you ever kissed anyone properly before?"

"Yes," Harry said, scowling. "Why? Am I complete rubbish at it?" he asked nervously.

"To put it nicely, yes, Potter; you're worse than kissing a pillow. At least pillows are yielding!"

Harry shoved Draco away, his face suffused with heat. "Oh, sod off!"

"You wanted the truth," Draco pointed out, staring at Harry contemplatively. "No wonder you thought Snape kissing you was weird."

"If you tell anyone, Malfoy, I swear…" Harry said looking around. "Just... show me how to do it right then!"

"It's not just about showing, Potter. It's not like learning a spell. It's about feeling."

"Well that's a problem seeing as how I don't feel anything for you," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Not that kind of feeling! Merlin, Potter, you're such a girl."

"Have I called you a prick yet today?"[R1

"Probably. How about we pretend this night never happened, yeah?" Harry said, scrubbing his face with his hands. "Besides, if word got back to Snape that I was snogging you in the corridor, he'd probably tear me limb from limb. Or you."

"Were you thinking of Snape the whole time you were kissing me?" Draco asked, appalled.

"No! Well, yeah, but I was comparing really, so that's normal, right?"

Draco hummed, and looked down the corridor. "I think you need to evaluate some things, Potter. I promise not to drag you off into the alcoves down here if you promise to think about what happened tonight from an unaffected position."

"Try speaking English, Malfoy."

"You go back to your room and think about what happened tonight. Try to think about the events without letting anger or fear cloud your pathetically small mind."

Harry sighed and nodded. "I'll ignore the insult to my intellect, but the rest is probably good advice."

"_Insult to your intellect_? Really Potter, you've spent too much time with Granger."

"And Snape," Harry put in tiredly.

Draco straightened his robes and smoothed back his hair. "Go to bed, Potter. I think I'll go and see what Pansy is up to."

"So much for my devoted boyfriend," Harry scoffed.

"Friends with benefits, Potter," Draco said, winking. "Night, love!"

"Never, call me that again," Harry said, shuddering.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

** Chapter Fourteen**

**_September 2, 1997_**

_Snape kissed me, and Draco kissed me, and then Draco told me I was horrible at it. So then why does Snape want me?  
_  
"Alright, Harry?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry answered truthfully.

"What happened? And don't tell me nothing, 'cause I'm really getting sick of you keeping me in the dark about things," Ron said, frowning.

Harry rolled onto his side so he was facing Ron. "I thought there were certain things you didn't want to know."

"I probably don't, but tell me anyway," Ron said, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Snape kissed me."

"What?"

"And then Malfoy kissed me."

"WHAT!"

"Oh, calm down," Harry groused. "Apparently I was horrible at it anyway, so I doubt either one would want to kiss me again anytime soon, not that I want to kiss Malfoy again."

"Does that mean you do want to kiss Snape again?" Ron squeaked.

"No! Yes. I don't know!"

"Well, why don't you?"

Harry glared. "How would you feel if Snape suddenly told you he wants you? How would you feel if anyone told you they wanted you after fighting with you all day and the night before!"

"I'd probably be sick," Ron said, his face contorted in disgust.

Harry sat up and grabbed his pillow, whacking Ron's head. "You're not helping!"

"Well, you wanted to know!"

Harry moaned. "It was hypothetical!"

"I don't know how to be hypothetical about other blokes!" Ron cried.

"Fine, pretend it was a girl! Pansy Parkinson. What if Pansy came up to you, told you she wanted you, and then kissed you? What would you think?"

"I'd think she's gone insane, that's what I'd think."

Harry flopped back onto the bed and put the pillow over his head. "Not helping!"

"Well, I don't know what to say to help you. It's Snape. Snape. I just got used to you wanting to spend time with him. I don't want to think about anything else."

"Doesn't matter," Harry said dejectedly, removing the pillow and looking at Ron. "Apparently I can't kiss for shit anyway."

"Harry, I love you mate, but if you want me to help you practice, or whatever, I don't think I can-"

"Ew, no!"

"Good."

Harry smacked Ron with the pillow again.

* * *

The next night found Harry once again knocking on Snape's door. When the door opened, Harry was faced with a scowling Snape. 

"What?"

"Malfoy said I can't kiss for shit and I was wondering if you want to teach me or should I ask him to do it?" Harry said, his voice much calmer than his stomach, which was twisted into a nervous knot.

Snape stood in stunned silence for a moment before pulling Harry inside. "You've been kissing Malfoy?" he asked, ignoring the rest for the time being.

"Yes, I have. Is that a problem?" Harry questioned, folding his arms across his chest in annoyance. "Weren't you the one telling me to sow my wild oats while I still could?"

Snape's left eye twitched, but he gave no other outward sign of emotion. "Yes, I did."

Harry smirked. "Then you can't get angry."

"Just because I said that you should, does not mean I wish to hear all the sordid details," Snape ground out through clenched teeth before stalking further into his quarters. He didn't need to turn around to know that Harry had followed him.

"Then what good are you if you don't want to hear about it?"

"Why do I need to hear about it?" Snape asked, sitting down and glaring at Harry.

Harry sat opposite him. "Because you're the one I'll inevitably have to get 'married' to."

"That doesn't mean I want to hear about your sexual exploits in the meantime," Snape told him, his lip curling in disgust. "It turns my stomach."

"Oh, that's funny. So very funny," Harry spat sarcastically. "You know, Draco was right, you are just a jealous prat."

"I am not jealous," Snape growled, glaring daggers at Harry. "If you're going to be insulting, you can leave right now."

Harry snorted. "And if I don't?"

"Then I'll throw you out," Snape said, fingering his wand.

"You can't."

"Going to start giving me orders?" Snape sneered.

"Well, if you expect me to I might as well," Harry said, folding his arms across his chest. "And the first one is going to be that you actually think back to what I said when I first showed up."

"That you'd been kissing Malfoy? Yes, I rather caught that part."

"Yeah I know," Harry said, his frustration evident. "What else did I say?"

"That you were rubbish at it," Snape said, smirking.

"And then," Harry prompted.

"And that you wanted to practice," Snape said warily.

"Exactly!" Harry rolled his eyes. "And whose door did I knock on asking for practice?"

"So you can compare me to Malfoy?"

"No, so I can rub it in his face that he's complete rubbish, and I've found something better."

Still wary, Snape nodded. "All right. But you'll have to get considerably closer."

Harry chuckled. "Do I?"

"You could stay there, but I doubt you'll get much...pleasure from it," Snape said, his voice dropping to a low purr.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Harry grinned lazily.

Snape's brow arched. "Oh really? And how do you intend for that to happen?"

Harry's smile was decidedly predatory as he said, "Keep talking like that and you'll find out soon enough."

"I do believe that was a threat, Mister Potter," Snape replied, unable to keep himself from being interested. "As you can see, I'm shaking with fear," he drolled.

"So that's what that tremble was then?" Harry asked, lounging back against the couch.

"You are the one who is going to be trembling if you don't stop playing games," Snape warned, eyes narrowing as he too leaned casually back against the chair.

"Why do you think I'm playing games?"

"You're not?"

Harry grinned. "Now I never said I wasn't."

"You are walking a dangerous line, Potter," Snape warned.

"And I wasn't before?"

"Yes, but now you're being a tease," Snape pointed out. "Which I will only allow for so long."

"Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about that? Because I'm pretty cozy where I am now."

Snape rose to his feet, and walked slowly towards Harry, eyes glinting dangerously. "You really shouldn't tease a snake in its own lair."

"You aren't going to try and bite my finger off again, are you?" Harry asked, tracking Snape's movements with his eyes.

Snape circled until he was standing behind Harry. He reached down, letting his fingers slide along the sides of Harry's neck and he bent to whisper in his ear. "There is pleasure, Potter, and then there is withholding said pleasure," Snape said, his fingers caressing Harry's earlobes. "You are dangerously close to having it withheld," Snape warned.

Harry swallowed thickly and tipped his head off the back of the couch. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" Snape asked, letting a finger trail across Harry's bottom lip.

A rush of excitement sped through him. This was what he came back down here for. "Please."

"Hmm," Snape replied, and then stepped away. He returned to his place on the couch and looked passively at Harry. "Would you like to come closer now?"

"Yes," Harry answered, scooting over before the word was completely out of his mouth.

Snape chuckled. "Better," he murmured, sliding a hand to the back of Harry's head, lightly gripping his hair and pulling him closer. Snape leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly against Harry's. "Much better," he added, kissing Harry softly.

Harry was suddenly aware of his lips and the fact that he wasn't sure what to do with them.

As if sensing his hesitation, Snape pulled back and whispered, "Relax," he kissed Harry again, "stop thinking so much."

Harry was having a hard time with that until Snape's tongue brushed across his lips. Then his brain shut down and his body took over.

As soon as Harry got the hang of kissing, Snape kissed down his jaw, and began doing things to his neck that had Harry gasping. He didn't even feel embarrassed about the fact he was practically in Snape's lap, as long as the man didn't stop.

He grasped Snape's leg and shirt, and when Snape pulled back, he floundered for a minute teetering between collapsing forward and back.

"Tell me," Snape whispered, his thumb sliding up and down the wildly throbbing vein in Harry's neck, "were you thinking of Malfoy at all?"

"No," Harry inhaled with a shudder. "Should I have been?"

"Definitely not," Snape replied, leaning in and kissing Harry again, just to bring home the point. "Any other lessons you want you will get from me, is that understood?" Snape asked, nipping Harry's lower lip and pulling back.

"Oh, yeah."

Snape snorted, sliding his hand up Harry's thigh before sitting back on the couch. "I take it you enjoyed it?" he teased, well aware that Harry had more than enjoyed it, if his little moans and whimpers had been any indication.

"You're a git," Harry murmured, wondering if kissing was always that good. "If you don't know then I'm not telling you."

Snape glanced down at Harry's obvious erection, then back to his face. "It's rather hard to hide."

Harry shoved him lightly. "I can call you meaner things."

"Not if you want to learn what comes next," Snape said, a lazy leer on his face.

"You sure it's not a turn-on?"

"I may like it rough, but I don't like it mean," Snape replied, an evil smirk on his face.

Harry burst out laughing and flopped backwards against the couch.

"Christmas is a long time away," Snape murmured, resting his head against the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling.

"It's still the first month back," Harry groaned.

"You don't even know what you're missing," Snape scoffed.

Harry's eyebrows shot up and an amused smile stole across his face. "I think that might have been a challenge."

Snape said bolt up, eyes flashing angrily. "Do not even think of finding out with anyone else," Snape warned. "And certainly not Draco Malfoy!"

Harry jerked at the sudden drop in temperature the conversation had taken. "I'm sure he'd be a wealth of information, but that wasn't what I was thinking."

Snape relaxed against the couch. "I...apologize," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "Perhaps there was some truth to your earlier accusation," he admitted.

Harry leaned back against the back of the couch wearily. "Which one?"

"I may be slightly jealous," Snape answered, scowling. "Though I see no need to dwell on it."

Harry snorted. "So that irrational table smashing in Diagon Alley was part of the undwelled-upon accusation?"

"I did no such thing," Snape sniffed, knowing perfectly well that he did, and it still galled him that he had lost control that way.

"And I'm Helga Hufflepuff."

"Odd, I always assumed she had bigger breasts," Snape said, smirking.

"Oi! You leave her knockers out of this!" Harry laughed.

"Knockers?" Snape asked. "Merlin help me, you're young," he said in mock horror.

Harry sniggered. "If I'm young then you're old."

Snape snorted. "I never denied it."

Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He glanced down at his watch and frowned. "It's after curfew."

"How far past curfew?"

"About half an hour."

"So that's about thirty points I should take from Gryffindor?" Snape asked completely straight-faced.

Harry gave a long-suffering sigh and waved a lazy hand. "If you must."

Snape snickered. "I'd offer to let you sleep here, but I don't think that would be a good idea tonight," he said, still more aroused than he'd like to admit.

Harry eyed Snape for a moment, before shrugging. "Write me a pass then? It is your fault I'm down here so late."

"I was just sitting here when you decided to molest my person," Snape said, rising and walking to his small writing table and scribbling out a note.

"My lips and neck are singing a completely different tune." Harry stood up and crossed the room to lean against the writing table. He watched as Snape finished off the note with his signature. Snape handed the scrap of parchment to him, and Harry grinned.

"I suppose if anyone asks, you can claim Malfoy gave you that mark on your neck, but we'll know better, won't we," Snape replied, smirking.

"Of course, and Draco would take that rumor in his stride as well." Harry folded the note and slipped it into his pocket.

Snape reached out a hand, grasping Harry by the shirt and tugging him forward. He spent the next minute kissing the boy soundly, just as another reminder. When he pulled back, Harry's eyes were heated instead of glazed. He was learning.

"Go, before I change my mind," Snape said, giving Harry a little shove.

Harry chuckled and turned at the door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry."


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

Harry's week passed in a lazy crawl. It was as if nothing had changed, but inwardly he knew something had. He was spending his free time with his friends and practicing Quidditch, and his grades were steady. Death Eater movements seemed to be dwindling as more were captured and sent to Azkaban. Just the day before Bellatrix Lestrange had been caught and thrown into the prison without a trial. She was due to be Kissed within the next four days, and Harry's heart was filled with a peace he hadn't known since the end of his third year.

"Harry, wait!" Harry turned around in the hall to see Ron chasing after him. He stopped and grinned as Ron came to a halt beside him. "What's the hurry, mate? I've been calling your name for the past three minutes."

"Sorry Ron, I was just thinking and got lost in my own head. What's up?"

"You want to talk about it?" Ron offered.

Harry shrugged. "Things are going so well, I'm sort of waiting for the penny to drop. I'm actually happy. I haven't been able to say that in a long time."

"That's a good thing though, yeah?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, it's a good thing."

"Where are you headed?" Ron asked. "Hermione said she'd meet us in the common room for break. She wants to start studying for N.E.W.Ts," he added, rolling his eyes.

"I have to meet Draco and play happy couple, but then I'll be up," Harry said, smiling. "Though feel free to get her to change her mind before I get there."

Ron snorted. "Like that's going to happen. Alright, see you in a bit!"

Harry watched him go, trying not to laugh. He had a feeling that by the time he got up there, Ron would have Hermione very distracted.

"Hey, Harry."

Simpering giggles echoed through the empty corridor and Harry turned his head to see Lavender Brown walking towards him, followed closely by Parvati, Padma, and Hannah. Hannah looked flushed from where Harry was standing and he had to wonder what was wrong with her.

"Hey, Lavender."

"You look upset," Lavender replied, touching his arm. "Did you fight with Draco?"

"No, I'm fine," Harry answered, frowning at the lot of them. It's not like they had ever cared before.

Lavender smiled. "That's good. Right, girls?"

Harry glanced over the top of the blonde girl's head to see the others nodding.

"Listen, Lavender, I need to meet Draco and I'm running behind." He watched as her eyes widened and then narrowed into shrewd slits.

She tossed her long hair over her shoulder, and placed her hands on her hips. "I have it under good authority that you and Malfoy are breaking up. Is that true?"

Harry went into a defensive stance as he pushed himself off the wall. "It's none of your business."

"We haven't even seen the two of you so much as kiss," Parvati chimed in, looking just as skeptical as Lavender.

Lavender nodded. "That's right, we haven't. Some boyfriends you two are."

Harry's lip curled into a sneer. "Just because we don't snog in the halls like, well, you and any available man, Lavender, doesn't mean we don't do it in private. And that's how we intend to keep it: private."

Lavender's face went red, but Harry couldn't help but notice that Hannah was smiling behind her hand.

"There's one way to prove it," Parvati said, smiling.

"I don't have to prove anything to you."

Lavender trailed her fingers down Harry's chest. "Oh, but I think you do."

Scowling, Harry pushed her hand away. "Well, Lavender, next time we make out, I'll be sure to send you an invitation."

"There's no need. We have it on good authority that Malfoy's about to leave Arithmancy and what better way is there to end a class than by being greeted by your lover."

Harry almost twitched at the last word, but barely managed to refrain from doing it.

The corridor began to fill with students leaving classes, and sure enough, Draco was amongst the throng.

"Here's your chance," Parvati trilled.

"Fine," Harry muttered. He had enough to deal with, without Lavender spouting out rumors.

"Harry," Draco called in clear surprise as Harry strode towards him. Harry almost felt guilty about what he was about to do, but he had to do something.

"Hey, Dray," he purred, sickened by himself as he wrapped both his arms around the blond's neck. Draco's gaze flicked around them, and Harry could almost sense when Draco's eyes landed on the three girls watching them off to the side, well, he had to rephrase that because there were certainly more than three girls watching them now.

"Miss me?" Draco drawled, sliding his hands around Harry's waist, "Or just my mouth?"

"Can't I miss both?" Harry asked, before leaning in and kissing Draco. At least now he'd had some practice at it so he knew how to respond when Draco began kissing him in earnest.

Harry closed his eyes. He called forth an image of Snape sitting on the arm of the armchair, leaning forward and kissing him, and it worked, for the moment. He could remember the feel of Snape's chapped, warm lips as they descended over his, and allowed Draco to take the lead in the kiss.

"Ten points from both your houses for unseemly public displays."

Harry jumped back, guiltily wiping his mouth, his stomach knotting and rolling. He stood still as Snape stormed up to them, his face turning an unpleasant shade of red that Harry'd never seen before.

"Your new title doesn't mean you can flaunt the rules," Snape hissed, eyes flashing dangerously.

"There are no rules saying you can't kiss whoever you please in the halls, sir," Harry responded.

Draco put his hand on Harry's arm. "I apologize Professor," Draco said, squeezing Harry's arm. "We'll be more careful in the future."

Harry stiffened at the contact, barely preventing himself from pulling away again. "I'm sorry as well," and God was he.

Harry wondered if anyone else could see the rage brewing in Snape's eyes, or if he was the only one. It was directed at him after all.

"Go to class!" Snape growled at the milling students.

Harry made to go with the other students, but Snape grabbed his shoulder in a vice-like grip. "Not you."

Draco made to stay, but Snape fixed him with a glare that had him second guessing the idea. "Just remember, it meant nothing, Snape," Draco reminded him before walking away.

Snape pulled open the door to an empty classroom and shoved Harry inside.

Harry rolled his shoulder once Snape let go of him. It ached.

Snape's eyes were glittering with anger. "I warned you not to seek your education elsewhere," he growled, advancing on Harry until he was backed up against the counter.

Harry scrabbled at the wall with his fingers, and settled on glaring back. "I had no choice, sir!"

"Was there a wand to your head, forcing you to stick your tongue down his throat?" Snape snarled.

"No."

"This farce ends," Snape spat. "Now!"

"Which one?" Harry sneered.

"Your relationship with Malfoy that is obviously not as fake as you claim it to be," Snape snarled. "I will not allow you to continue making a fool of me, do you understand?"

"You're doing an awfully good job of that yourself," Harry snapped, pushing forcefully at Snape so he could escape.

"I asked one thing of you, and you couldn't even stop yourself," Snape spat.

"I had no choice," Harry gritted out. "Did that ever occur to you in all your brilliance!"

"There's always a choice!" Snape shouted.

"Maybe for you!"

Snape clenched his fists and took two deep breaths before speaking. "Explain."

Harry folded his arms across his chest and took a bracing breath. He wasn't sure how to word this in a way that'd make sense to someone as pigheaded as Snape was. "I was cornered. Lavender and those other girls didn't believe that Draco and I were legit and that they were positive we were breaking up. They blackmailed me. What the hell was I supposed to do?"

"Ignore them! You've got nothing to prove to a daft bint who can't mind her own business." The explanation, as pathetic as it was, at least drained some of the anger, but not all. "It has to end with Draco. You've got to end it," Snape told him.

"And then what? Who will try to get at me next? At least with Draco I'm safe, well, as safe as anyone can be with Draco, but still!"

"You will be with me! I'm much more threatening than Draco could ever be," Snape said angrily. "If anyone lays a finger on you, they will answer to me," he hissed.

Harry flinched and stepped backwards. In an irritated voice, he asked, "Then why didn't we do this before?"

"You agreed to it out of my presence. By then, it was already done. But it can't continue. I'll assert my contractual role as your Steward, which is a role none may question. I cannot watch you with Draco. I will do it no longer." His voice was calmer now. At least Harry wasn't fighting him about it.

"Why are you so threatened by this?"

"Can't it be enough that I am?" Snape growled.

Harry frowned. "Is your faith in me that low?"

"This isn't about you, Potter. This is about me. It's the way I feel, rational or not. If it wasn't you, it would be whoever it was I cared for. I've had few things in life that give me pleasure, so when I find them, I hold on to them. Perhaps too tightly, but I know no other way."

Harry sagged back onto a desk. "That's completely fucked up, you know that, right?"

"I daresay that's the reason I've never had a successful relationship," Snape said, snorting at the absurdity of the conversation. "I am a jealous, possessive man, Potter, and that isn't going to change. I will, however, attempt to change the way I handle it."

"By not killing Draco?" Harry asked wearily.

"Must you continue this charade?" Snape asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What charade?" Harry's confusion was palpable. "I really don't want him dead. He's handy to have around."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill him," Snape said irritably. "I meant this charade of you dating him?"

"Yeah, that can stop," Harry admitted with a light flush.

"Thank you," Snape said, sighing as the tension left his shoulders.

"I can't deal with this anymore," Harry muttered, running a hand down his face.

"Harry, come here please," Snape said, cocking his head to the side and studying Harry.

Harry peered out between his fingers and then slowly dragged his hand down his face. He hopped off the desk and walked across the room so he was standing before Snape. "Yes?"

Snape leaned against a desk, spreading his legs slightly. He reached out, placed his hands on Harry's hips and began to pull him closer. He waited to see if the boy was going to bolt or not.

When Harry didn't move in protest, Snape tugged him forward sharply.

When he finally had Harry flush against him, he tilted his head back to look at him. Harry didn't appear scared, but looked wary. Sighing, Snape slid his arms around Harry's waist and rested his head against the other man's chest. He just needed a minute to settle himself, and right now, Harry could do that.

Harry looked down at Snape's head, completely stunned. Their positions had always been reversed. To have Snape leaning on his this way was strange, but it was good. Harry reached out and stroked Snape's hair, making a mental note to wash his hands. They sat there for the longest time, calm and oddly content.

When Snape finally lifted his head to look at Harry he asked, "Are we alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. Just try not to jump to conclusions; I hate getting yelled at for no reason." A small smile took out any sting the words may have held.

Snape stood, but didn't let Harry move away. Instead, he cocked his head to the side, leaned in, and kissed Harry. It was unlike the kisses they had shared before. It was slow, and sensual and...tender was the best word Harry could come up with. It made him feel things beyond arousal, and it surprised him that a kiss could do that.

When Snape pulled away, Harry was looking at him with glassy eyes. "Wow."

Snape snorted. "I've got to prepare for class and I've no doubt you've somewhere to be."

"Ron and Hermione were expecting me," Harry said, adjusting his school robes and running a hand through his hair. "Not so sure how true that will be when I get back to the tower."

Snape snorted. "At least they're keeping it in the common room instead of in the Charms corridor."

Harry laughed.

"Be gone, Potter."

"Can I come and see you tonight?" Harry asked.

Snape's brow arched. "Before or after you break up with Draco?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "After."

"Yes, you may."

Harry smiled. "I see how it is then." He gave Snape a brief, one-armed hug before darting out of the classroom.

Shaking his head, Snape took another minute to compose himself, then made his way back to the dungeons.

* * *

  
It didn't take long for news of Harry and Draco's "breakup" to spread through the school. Draco was reveling in the attention and the offers to console him. The official cause of their breakup was due to the "discovery" of a document, promising to join Harry's family with another. 

Speculation ran rampant through the school, but Harry refused to comment. The Prophet was no doubt digging through old documents in an attempt to ferret out the name of the family, but had as yet been unsuccessful.

"There's nothing to find, Harry," Hermione tried to assure him.

Harry shook his head and picked at his dinner. "They found out that I'm royalty, how much harder will it be to discover which family mine has been marrying into for generations. They won't even need to find a document to prove it."

"Had to come out eventually, right?" Ron said, trying to be pragmatic. "I mean, I know the timing is awful, but at least you won't have to sneak around anymore."

"I suppose," Harry agreed, holding his head with one hand.

Hermione looked at Ron over Harry's head, frowning. Ron merely shrugged.

"So how are you going to handle it when it does get out?" Hermione asked.

"The way I do everything here."

Hermione's worry was evident in every line on her face. "You can't fight the rumor mills with magic, Harry."

"What if I decide to assert my right as King?" Harry asked, not looking at Hermione. "What if I decide I want to change the way the Ministry does things?"

"It's up to you," Hermione said hesitantly.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, mate. Whatever you want to do, we're behind you, just remember that okay?"

Harry looked at them in surprise. He had been kidding...mostly. He didn't expect them to just agree with him.

Hermione offered him a small grin to counter his confusion. "You're the one who asked. We don't care what you do, so long as you're happy doing it."

Harry snorted. "I can't imagine anything fun or happy about taking on the Ministry."

"They'd really have no choice if the majority of the public supports you, and at this point they do."

"How do you know?" Harry asked curiously.

Ron answered him, much to Harry's surprise. "Because the Ministry is nervous. Dad talked about it at dinner a couple of times after you left. You're still the golden boy, whether you like it or not."

"Really?" To say Harry was shocked would have been an understatement. He had stopped reading the papers, not wanting to even think about it, but maybe that had been a bad idea. He had the sudden urge to talk to Snape.

"Yes, really." Ron laughed and refilled his plate.

Harry looked toward the Head Table and saw Snape talking with Flitwick. As if sensing his gaze, dark eyes turned to meet Harry's own. Harry nodded toward the doors, and got an almost imperceptible nod in return. "I'm going to go and talk to Snape. I'll see you tonight," Harry whispered, standing.

"Good luck," Ron told him, and Hermione smiled at him oddly.

"Thanks."

As Harry left, he caught the sight of black robes moving near the Head Table. Grinning, he went down the stairs to the dungeons and waited in the shadows at the bottom.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Beta'd by Rakina

I'm sorry about this chapter. Someone pointed out the missing one in between and my mind boggles at my own stupidity. The real fifteen is up, and this is the real sixteen. So...yeah. If you've read this chapter already, go back one chapter because that one will be new to you.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

"You've lost your mind," Snape told Harry, aghast. "Do you even know what it is you're suggesting?"

"Why are you so upset about it?" Harry returned.

"Why? Why?" Snape repeated, almost shouting. "Because I'll be the one stuck cleaning up whatever mess you make!"

Harry scowled. "How do you know I'm going to make a mess? I might be good at it!"

"You want to take on the Ministry, Potter, of course you're going to make a mess of it!"

"Thanks for the support!" Harry made towards the door. "I'll show myself out."

"Get back here!" Snape yelled. "You can't just tell me you're considering pushing your right to be King and walk away!"

"If you're going to yell, what's the point of staying?" Harry shouted back at him.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just sit," he ordered, causing Harry to glare. "Please," he added irritably.

Harry did, with a scowl. "Well?"

Snape went to his writing desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out a large stack of envelopes bundled together and dropped them on Harry's lap. "This doesn't include the Howlers of course."

Harry looked down at the sizable pile of letters and then back up at Snape. "You've been intercepting my mail?"

"Yes. Go ahead and read them," Snape said, sitting down and watching Harry warily. He was expecting the inevitable explosion, but if the boy was going to be daft enough to carry through with his little plan, he needed to know what he was getting into.

Harry pulled off the string and picked up the first opened letter. He unfolded it, casting a quick glance at Snape before reading.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_As a concerned parent, I must protest this strange and unwelcome change. It is nothing short of a relief that you have decided to turn down your title. It was the right thing for this country. However my concerns still stand thus: how dare you assume you can just take power? A mere child such as yourself! You must understand, Mr. Potter, that so soon after the latest problem with our world, hearing that the defeater of a Dark Wizard wishes to gain power is disconcerting._

_I thank you for not disrupting our lives more than you already have._

He glanced up at Snape, frowning. "Keep reading," Snape said, waving toward the pile.

Harry opened the next letter. It didn't even bother with a greeting.

_We don't need a king! How's that any better than He Who Must Not Be Named? Savior or not, I'd rather see you dead then as king!_

He set that one aside and picked up the next one.

_Potter,_

_Just who do you think you are? There are far better people in our world than you that deserve to be in power. You claim you don't want your rightful place. We'll see how long that lasts._

He tossed it aside and looked at Snape. "Are they all like this?"

"Those are just the ones who aren't asking you to bless their children, or give them money," Snape answered, watching as Harry opened the next one.

_Potter,_

_The day you become King will be your last day on Earth. Think about that before you try overthrowing the Ministry._

Harry crumpled that one and tossed it into the flames of Snape's fire. "How many of these do you suppose the minister himself ordered to be sent?"

Snape shrugged. "Impossible to say, but I'm sure he's responsible for some of them."

"I'm more worried about the ones who don't mention the ministry directly," Harry admitted as he read a few more, some hitting him harder than others.

"They're all along the same theme, there's no point in reading the rest," Snape warned.

Harry sighed, tossing the lot of them on the table. "Did anyone have anything good to say?"

"That would be the ones kissing up to you, hoping for favors," Snape answered, snorting.

"Favors," Harry repeated dully. "Have you intercepted every piece of mail I've received this year?"

"Yes," Snape admitted, meeting Harry's gaze head on. "Anything that wasn't related to the King business, I sent on. There weren't many."

"I never get much mail," Harry told him distractedly as he took to crumpling all the missives he'd read and chucking them into the flames.

"I saw no reason for you to read them," Snape continued, studying Harry. "They would only be a distraction in an already nightmarish year."

"It hasn't been all bad," Harry mumbled, getting off the couch to pick up the poker next to the fire. He swirled the letters through the flames, causing them to grow brighter.

"Honestly, I was expecting more yelling," Snape said, still expecting a lecture on invading Harry's privacy.

Harry sat down before the fire and leaned back on his palms. "It's no fun when you're expecting it."

"Still want to take on the Ministry?" Snape asked tiredly.

"If I did would you help?"

Snape sighed, rubbing his face. "If that is your choice, then yes, but it wouldn't be because I wanted to. I think it's a colossally bad idea."

"You thought it was from the beginning," Harry pointed out, tilting his head back so he could see him.

"Do you really want to be King? If you thought your life was public before, it's nothing compared to what it will be should you choose to be the official Monarch."

"No, I don't." Harry stared back into the fire. "I've thought about it off and on, what I could change, but it's not worth it."

Snape's body relaxed, relief flooding through him. He could only begin to imagine what kind of chaos would happen were Harry to decide to force his claim. Not only would the Wizarding world be divided, again, but he'd have to worry about keeping Harry not only safe, but alive.

"Thank you," Snape murmured, unsure if he was talking to Harry or some unknown deity.

Harry inclined his head. He raised a hand to his face and rubbed out the exhaustion. "How long until the papers find out the connection between our families?"

"Soon," Snape answered. "If you'd like to take the offensive, you can make the announcement yourself. Then you control the initial spin it's bound to take in the papers."

"I can't see how announcing it myself will help."

"Because you're announcing it on your own terms. You aren't being 'outed', as it were," Snape said. "If the papers release the information before you, they'll assume you are ashamed to have your name linked to mine." He'd wondered more than once if that were true.

Harry sighed. "I think I need to take a walk down to the castle gates then."

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

"Yeah."

"What are you going to say?" Snape asked curiously.

Harry shook his head and shifted on the floor until he was facing Snape. "I have no idea."

"That could be problematic."

"Probably," Harry agreed. "Yeah."

"We'll prepare a statement. Do you wish to answer questions?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "Can you write the statement?"

Snape snorted, but went to his writing desk and began to write a statement for Harry to read to the press.

"I feel guilty," Harry announced into the room, quiet save for the scratching of Snape's quill.

"For?" Snape asked, not looking up.

"Well, every time I've made an official statement it's been you who's written it. Doesn't seem fair."

"I don't mind," Snape told him, studying what he had written so far. "Traditionally, it's the Steward's job, so it's not as if it's out of the ordinary." He handed the parchment to Harry. "Is there anything you want to change?"

Harry read it over quickly and shook his head. It listed everything the press needed to know, from the original vow to a sketched version of what was to come at Christmas, and in the politest words told everyone to bugger off and leave him alone about it.

"Will it suffice?" Snape asked, unable to read Harry's expression.

"It's fine really," Harry said, handing it back. "I just wish it'd work."

"It's better than letting them make up their own version. Shall we get it over with?" Snape asked, holding out his hand to pull Harry up.

Harry clasped the hand and got to his feet. "Yes, lets."

* * *

When they returned to Snape's quarters an hour later, Harry had gone right past irritated and straight to pissed off. For his part, Snape had been silent, but Harry could see how tightly his jaw was clenched, and both of his eyes were twitching like mad.

"I am not reading the article when it shows up in the _Prophet_," Harry declared through clenched teeth as he sat down hard on Snape's sofa.

Snape went straight to his sideboard. He reached for the Scotch, then changed his mind, grabbing the bottle of Ogden's. He poured himself a large shot of whisky, and poured half that amount in another glass for Harry.

Wordlessly, he thrust the glass at Harry and sat next to him on the couch. Snape forced himself to sip the whisky, despite the fact he wanted to toss it back and drink another glass or three.

"Vultures, the whole lot of them," Harry mumbled, hands trembling as he tried to keep his glass still.

"I didn't expect things to go quite so pear-shaped," Snape admitted, taking another sip of the whisky. "I apologize."

"Not your fault they want a piece of my soul all to themselves."

"No, but I should have expected it," Snape answered, sighing. Also, he should have warned Albus before they made their appearance to the press. He was sure he was going to get an earful about that as well.

"I just want this to end," Harry groaned, finally raising his glass to his lips.

Snape snorted. "It could be worse."

"How?"

"You could be trying to take over the Ministry," Snape said, sipping his whisky.

Harry choked on his drink. "Bastard."

Snape leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Indeed."

* * *

Harry went about the next day as cheerfully as possible. The Daily Prophet hadn't failed to deliver and when he had entered the Great Hall for dinner that night you could hear food digesting in everyone's stomachs.

Harry could feel the eyes of everyone in the Great Hall going between him and Snape, waiting to see who would react first. Harry ignored them all, taking his usual seat at the Gryffindor table and reaching for the boiled potatoes.

"How's the chicken?" he asked Ron, who seemed to relax at the casual words.

"Great," Ron answered, tearing another bite from the leg of the chicken.

Slowly the whispers began, and they swelled into normal conversation, no doubt about Harry and Snape, but at least it wasn't silence.

"You'd think people would have nothing better to talk about," Hermione huffed, swiping a roll out of the basket before her. She glared down the table at a huddled mass of fifth years whispering heatedly to one another. When they saw her glare they flushed furiously, broke apart and began eating with hurried bites. "Oh, honestly."

"Don't get too wound up about it, Hermione," Harry said, picking at his vegetables. "They'll say whatever they want."

Hermione eyed him speculatively. "You're taking this awfully well, Harry. People have been talking about it all day."

"Yeah, but their whispers are nothing compared to dealing with the press yesterday."

"You usually can't stand either," Hermione pointed out.

Harry had to fight the urge to slam his glass down on the table. "Yes, Hermione, I hate both, can we just accept the fact that I'm handling it as best I can and leave it the fuck alone?" Harry hissed.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up, but she thankfully remained silent. Harry swore in his head and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

"It's alright," Hermione said stiffly, pushing her peas around her plate.

Harry looked helplessly at Ron, but Ron was looking decidedly icy. "I'm sorry," Harry repeated.

"Look, mate," Ron began, but Hermione held up her hand.

"No Ron, it's alright, honestly," Hermione said, though her smile was a bit forced. "Stop being a prat, Harry," she said, taking a bite of potatoes. "We're not your enemies."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's been a really long day," Harry said, running his hands through his hair.

"I can imagine," she replied in clipped tones, "But we don't know because you wouldn't even talk to us."

"I told you, it was a spur of the moment decision," Harry whispered. "If we had planned it, I would have told you first, but we didn't."

"Not that," she said waspishly, "Today, you've ignored all of us, even Malfoy looked concerned."

"I'm just trying to get through the day without hexing anyone, or letting them know that they are all getting under my skin," Harry whispered angrily. "If I show weakness now, the rest of the year is going to be absolute hell."

"If you continue to leave us all in the dark, we can make it especially hellish," Hermione snapped. "We're your friends, and we didn't even know quite how connected you were with Snape. We had to find out through the news."

"Hermione, I'm begging you," Harry pleaded. "Can we just get through dinner, then we can discuss this. In private," he emphasized.

"When would we find the time in your busy schedule? Tomorrow? Next week perhaps? No, Harry, we want the truth from you, now."

"Ten minutes, Hermione. Give me ten minutes to get through dinner, then you can have all the time you want to discuss it, alright?"

"Let him eat, Hermione," Ron said wearily.

Harry looked gratefully at Ron, but Ron didn't return his smile. Harry focused on his food, eating mechanically but not tasting a thing. All too soon, Hermione stood. "Time's up, Harry. I'll be in the library. Please don't keep me waiting."

Hermione walked away, leaving Ron and Harry to stare after her.

"She's right pissed off," Ron warned him. "Not that I'm very happy with you right now either." Ron looked mournfully at the peach cobbler on the table. "And I have to miss out on that," he grumbled, getting to his feet.

Harry stared down at his plate; a tremor tingled in his throat and made his eyes burn. He stole a glance up at the High Table and couldn't seem to find a friendly face among the lot of them. With his heart in his throat and his stomach churning, he stood up and followed after his friends, leaving a trail of whispered rumors in his wake.

He caught up with Ron and they made their way to the library in silence. They found Hermione waiting in a cubicle near the back. When Ron and Harry joined her, she cast a silencing charm around them and waited for Harry to speak.

"I was going to tell you," Harry started but Hermione cut him off. "But you didn't, and there's no changing that. Now we want to know what's really going on."

Harry told them everything. About the vow, about the bonding and the sexual aspect of it all. Ron cringed at that bit, but Harry assured him he was rather looking forward to it, which just made Ron pale.

"Well?" he asked, once he'd finished speaking.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Hermione asked, but the anger was gone from her voice. It was replaced by curiosity and a kind of sadness that pierced Harry more than her anger ever could.

"I don't know," Harry said, scrubbing his face. "You know Snape, he's private and this has as much to do with him as it does with me. I couldn't violate what little trust he has in me, even to my best friends, and I'm sorry."

"We wouldn't have told anyone," Ron said, frowning. "You could have trusted us."

"That's not what he meant, Ron," Hermione said, sighing. "He was protecting Professor Snape."

"From us," Ron stressed.

"I really am sorry," Harry repeated for the fourth time.

"How does Professor Snape feel about it? The bond and the ritual?"

Harry was glad Hermione called it 'the ritual' and not 'the shagging'.

"Resigned, I suppose. He's not fighting me on it anyway, but honestly, I've never really asked him." All the time they'd spent together, all the times Harry had bitched and moaned and he couldn't remember ever asking Snape how he felt about it all. And even if he had, he doubted he'd really hear the answers. He hadn't cared then, but he found himself caring now.

"You've never asked him?" Hermione said in surprise.

"I never thought to."

Hermione shook her head. "Go and see him tonight and ask then. I know you're a boy and emotionally challenged, but you can't just go into this without finding out!"

Harry scowled at her, but nodded. "Have I explained things enough that I won't get yelled at during breakfast tomorrow?" he asked irritably.

"Yes, just go," Hermione said, making a shooing motion.

"Come Harry. Go Harry. Eat your dinner, Harry," Harry teased in a mocking tone, which earned him a glare. "I'm going, I'm going!"

"Good." She pulled a book from her bag, and Harry knew he'd lost her, so it startled him when she called out as he made to leave: "And Harry?"

He looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Good luck."

Ron smirked and nodded in agreement. "You'll need it, mate."

Harry smiled and made his way to the dungeons, ignoring the whispers as he passed. The whispers that grew louder when it became apparent he was heading to the dungeons. Sighing, he went to Snape's door and knocked, glaring at a fourth year Slytherin who had followed him down the corridor and was watching to see Snape's reaction.

Snape opened the door and Harry nodded in the direction of the fourth year. Snape's lip curled and his scowl deepened. "I suggest you return to your common room if you don't want detention, Mister Phillips," Snape ground out.

The fourth year ran like he was being chased by a hippogriff.

"I didn't know that worked on the Slytherins as well," Harry joked once he'd entered Snape's quarters.

"I've given more detentions to members of my house in the last twelve hours than I have in the previous twelve years," he said irritably. "What do you want, Potter?" he asked tiredly.

Harry shifted nervously. "Actually, I wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

Snape's head tilted to the side as he studied Harry, his brows furrowed in thought. "You're inquiring about my state of being?"

"Yes, actually." Right, he was a heel, a big ugly scabby heel. Why hadn't this occurred to him before?

"I'm fine, I suppose," Snape answered, still unsure if Harry wanted a truthful answer, or an answer that he could catalog and put away easily.

"Suppose?" Harry repeated warily. "What does that mean?"

Alright then, if Potter wanted to know, Snape would tell him. "I'm exhausted, irritable, tired of blowing up Howlers and the increase in death threats is becoming tiresome. My students don't know what to make of me, and I find I care less and less about that. I'm angry, I'm randy, and Christmas can't come soon enough."

Snape waited, curious as to how Harry would respond to all of that.

Harry blinked and lowered himself onto the sofa. "Oh."

Snape chuckled and sat down next to him. "A little more information that you had planned on?" he asked, amused.

"No," Harry said immediately and then flushed. "Yeah, just a little."

"I did it on purpose, I admit it," Snape said, a small smile on his face.

"I really do want to know though," Harry said, pulling up his leg and shifting on the couch to face Snape. "I've never really asked how you felt about this mess. The things you're being forced to do. I just...how_ are_ you?"

Snape stayed silent for a moment and Harry wondered if he'd blundered into something he really didn't want to know.

"As I said before, Potter. I am tired."

"Is there anything I can do? To make it easier, I mean," Harry asked, looking sheepish. He had a feeling Hermione was going to tell him he had really messed this up.

No, scratch that, he knew Hermione was going to tell him he had really messed up, if Snape didn't say it first.

"I must confess, I'm confused by your sudden bout of caring," Snape said, studying him through narrowed eyes. "Might I ask who, or what, brought this on?"

"Hermione," Harry admitted with a small shrug. "But really myself."

"Explain?"

"You weren't at dinner, but I had a bit of a row with Ron and Hermione that got me thinking about a few things."

"Thinking, that's new," Snape said teasingly.

"Apparently."

"And what conclusions did you come to?"

"What?"

"You said your row made you think about things. What things are you referring to?"

"That," Harry said, sighing. How was he going to say this without sounding like a prat? Although, he reckoned he would be more of a prat for not saying it. "I've been selfish, and stupid. Really spectacularly stupid, actually."

Snape frowned. "No more than usual," he said, not meaning it as an insult, just a statement of truth.

"That's encouraging," Harry said dryly. He ran a hand down his face.

"So let me see if I understand. You've come to the conclusion that you've been selfish, and now you're concerned with my wellbeing?"

"Well, when you put it that way...I can go back to not caring if it makes you feel better."

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Snape said, sighing. "It's nice...good that you care. I'm just not accustomed to anyone...caring."

Harry got the horrible sense that Snape wasn't lying about that either. "Good, because I don't think I can go back to not caring anyhow."

Snape was still feeling mildly stunned. He had resigned himself to Harry needing him, relying on him, but hadn't expected much in return. "That's good," he said, a small smile on his face. "Surprising, but good."

"Shouldn't have to be surprising," Harry muttered, guilt creeping through his gut. "It should have been known."

"So what did you argue about with your friends?" Snape asked, sensing it was time to change the subject.

Harry glanced up at Snape. "The news article."

"I take it they didn't know the full details of your obligations?"

"No," Harry shook his head miserably. "I just never found the time to tell them. If I was ever going to."

"Well, Potter, that is the benefit of having real friends. They forgive you, when others would not," Snape pointed out. "Whatever else I feel about them, I cannot deny that they are loyal to you, and I doubt there is anything you can do to make them turn their backs on you."

"Except ignore them, that seemed to work."

"They'll come around, they always do," Snape assured him.

Harry leaned against Snape, resting his head on his shoulder. "Yeah, I suppose. I'm just so tired of all of it, you know?"

Snape's hand rose to rest at the base of Harry's neck. "Yes, I know."

"Can I stay here tonight?" Harry asked softly.

"You may."

Harry startled and looked up at Snape in surprise. "Seriously?"

"You can sleep on the couch or with me in the bed. I assure you I'm too tired to molest you in any way, shape or form."

Harry swallowed. "Do you have a preference?"

"Bed."

"Really?"

"Am I stuttering?" Snape asked, teasingly. "Yes, really, but you are of course welcome to sleep where you wish."

"Give me a second," Harry said, holding up a hand, missing the feeling of Snape's hand when it slipped from his neck.

Snape watched him curiously.

Harry exhaled sharply. "You're sure?"

"Yes, or I wouldn't have said it," Snape said, frowning.

Harry grinned shyly. "All right then."

"You'll probably drown in them, but you can wear a pair of my pajamas if you'd rather not get your things," Snape told him, rising to his feet. The moment he said it, he realized he wanted to see Harry wearing his night clothes. His cock gave an interested twitch, but he forced the thought away.

"You wouldn't mind?" Harry asked, tension draining from his shoulders.

"If you come to my bed wearing nothing, I might find the energy I'm currently lacking," Snape said, snorting and walking toward the bedroom.

Harry's eyebrows arched in shock and he jumped up off the couch to follow Snape into the bedroom.

Snape went to his dresser and pulled out a faded pair of cotton pajamas. "You'll have to forgive the quality, I've never bothered much about sleep wear," he said, handing them to Harry and pulling out another pair from the drawer.

Harry took them and clutched them to his chest; he tried to ignore the pine scent they gave off from being in the wardrobe. "You haven't?"

"Usually just a nightshirt," he admitted. "You can change in there," he added, nodding toward the bathroom. "After the last time you stayed, I had the House Elves provide another toothbrush as well. It's the blue one on the shelf."

Harry nodded and went into the bathroom.

Snape waited until the door closed before removing his own clothing and sliding on the pajamas. He hung up his robes and put the rest of his clothes in the linen basket , then went about turning down all the lights in the other rooms.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

The next month and a half moved with surprising speed. Harry would have thought it would have gone painfully slowly. Now it was Halloween and much to his horror he found himself having to survive countless girls and boys asking him to go to the party that night with them. Most of them he'd turned down flat, but there were a few that had stunned him to the point he couldn't even answer. Pansy Parkinson was the biggest surprise and it'd taken him almost a minute to process that she had in fact asked him at all.

He managed to show up dateless, which made the night much easier to deal with. Ron and Hermione were dancing, and Harry was dodging in and out of people trying to avoid two very determined Ravenclaw girls. The fact that he ended up hiding behind Snape was no small coincidence.

"Potter, if you think you can stay there all evening, you're sorely mistaken."

Harry flushed. "Just until Lavender gives up looking for me, and then I'll go."

"She is rather determined," Snape said, and Harry could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Not helping, Professor," Harry grumbled.

"There is always the option of agreeing to dance with her, Snape reminded him, "Although from the looks of Mr. Longbottom's expression she is a poor dance partner."

Harry looked over Snape's shoulder. "Shame too, Neville's a pretty flash dancer." He ducked down again when he saw Pansy's eyes scanning the crowd.

"Merlin, Potter, just politely decline."

"I tried! They don't give up!"

"Care to dance, Potter?" came a voice from behind, making Harry jump.

Draco laughed. "Jumpy?"

"No," Harry muttered, flaming from head to toe.

Draco smirked. "No you aren't jumpy or no you don't wish to dance?"

"No to the first, yes to the second." Harry took Draco's outstretched hand. "Excuse us, Professor."

"Behave, Malfoy," Snape warned as the two walked away.

"I always behave, Professor, you know that."

Harry laughed and let himself be dragged onto the dance floor.

"I hear Pansy is trying to get in your pants before you get bonded," Draco said, smirking as he pulled Harry into his arms.

"You hear or were told?" Harry said, letting Draco lead him. "I can't wait until Christmas just so this madness will stop."

"You could be getting so much arse, Potter," Draco said, sighing. "Are you sure you're a virile young man?"

"What makes you think I'm not getting any?" Harry asked defensively.

"If you were Snape would kill you, and you're not dead. Unless…" Draco trailed off, looking over Harry's shoulder at Snape, who was watching them intently.

"Okay, so I'm not," Harry admitted, blushing.

"You're too cute, Potter," Draco teased, "no wonder Snape wants to keep you all to himself."

"Oh, piss off," Harry moaned.

"Oh, unclench!" Draco said, laughing. "I assume things are going well then?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, blushing slightly.

"Well, good then," Draco said. "Now it's only polite for you to ask in turn."

Harry sniggered. "But I know how well you're doing. Haven't you ever heard of keeping it in your pants?"

"When one looks as good as I do, it's rude not to spread it around," Draco said smugly. "Besides, I don't believe in infidelity, so once I'm married I won't have the opportunity."

"Sowing your wild oats then?" Harry asked.

"Who knew I had so many?" Draco said as the song ended.

"Any person who's read a book on the subject," Harry quipped, and in a lowered tone added, "Pansy's heading this way."

"I can see that; and your point would be?"

Harry started to flush again. "Could you possibly distract her while I run away?"

"Coward," Draco said, rolling his eyes. He turned, smiling brilliantly at Pansy.

"There you are! Care to dance?" Draco asked her, taking her arm and spinning her away from Harry.

Harry darted back towards Snape, who was looking at him with a bemused smirk.

He ducked as a bat swooped low, the charmed decoration letting out a shriek as it soared towards the rafters again. The Headmaster had really out done himself with this celebration. The hall was so thick with decorations it was almost unrecognizable. Charmed bats were circling above them as were the candles. Jack-o-lanterns lined the walls and hovered in the air, mingling with the candles that were flickering in and out in some odd dance of their own.

The effect worked though, the hall seemed shrouded in shadows and was spooky enough to give even Harry a small thrill.

"Did you have fun?"

Harry snorted at the greeting. "I didn't step on Draco's toes if that's what you're asking."

"Don't even think about it, Finnegan!" Snape shouted, and Harry saw Seamus shoving a flask in his robe behind Snape.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked, amazed. "I mean, how did you even know he was behind you, let alone about to spike the punch!"

Snape looked upwards and Harry followed his gaze to a small mirror set in the ceiling that reflected the punch bowl. "They're set throughout the room, which I trust you will keep to yourself," Snape warned. "Each mirror is charmed to show different points in the room. If you'd paid any attention, you'd notice that though the staff mingles about the room, they generally end up in the same places. Right near a mirror."

Harry watched as McGonagall pounced on an unsuspecting fifth year Ravenclaw across the room. "That's rather brilliant."

"The Weasley twins managed to circumvent it somehow, but I've yet to figure out how," Snape said, frowning.

"So, I'm guessing dancing together is one of those things on your list of inappropriate things to do?" Harry asked.

"Quite," Snape agreed, surprised that Harry would even think of doing so in front of his friends. He bent down next to Harry's ear. "Perhaps later if you'd like to join me in my quarters," Snape whispered.

Harry arched a brow, trampling down the bout of sadness that Snape's initial rejection caused. "Do you expect me to say anything other than 'yes' to that question?"

"I would hope not," Snape said, smiling.

Harry grinned. "And for the record, Fred and George got the elves to stick the alcohol in the punch in the kitchen."

"The little blighters," Snape muttered. "They were even more trouble than you at times."

"But theirs was always intentional trouble," Harry added with a helpful grin.

Snape didn't bother to hide the small smile. "Did Draco keep his hands to himself?"

"As if you weren't watching the whole time," Harry teased.

Harry's laughter was cut short by a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Ginny standing there with a light blush staining her cheeks.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hey, Ginny," Harry greeted, casting a wary glance at Snape to gauge his reactions. "What's the matter?"

Ginny twisted her skirt. "Would you dance with me?"

Harry saw Snape's eyes darken before he looked away, surveying the crowd of students.

"Sure, I'd love to," Harry said, smiling nervously. With a last wary glance at Snape, he led Ginny out to the dance floor.

By the time they got to the dance floor the fast song that had been playing ended and a horrible, prickling feeling of dread washed over him. He swallowed as the music went absurdly slow. It wasn't even at the speed of the waltz he and Draco had done earlier. Before he could attempt to escape, Ginny had her arms wrapped around Harry's neck.

Trapped by his own inattention, Harry placed his hands on her waist loosely, trying to keep a safe distance between them. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ginny in most situations, but this one was different.

He could feel Snape's eyes on him, and it wasn't like when he was dancing with Draco. The intensity of the gaze was making the skin on his neck prickle.

"Harry, did you hear me?" Ginny asked.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked distractedly.

Ginny sighed. "I said I've missed you."

"Sorry, I know I've been distracted," Harry said uneasily, turning slightly so he could see Snape. But the man was no longer standing where he had left him.

Harry felt unsettled as he swayed gently with the girl in his arms. It was wrong, so utterly and completely wrong, and he couldn't figure out a way to get out of the situation. His gaze darted around the room in desperation, trying to spot the hard-to-miss man, but he gave up his search as a lost cause. Snape must have left the room when his back was turned.

Ginny took his momentary distraction as a cue to worm her way closer to him and rest her cheek on his shoulder.

Harry's palms began to sweat. He wanted to step back, to run, to do something other than just stand there, swaying. But he couldn't pull away. This was Ginny, and as much as he felt like he was going to faint from the stress of just generally not liking this position, he knew he owed her at least this one dance. He just hoped he could make it the whole way.

After what felt like an eternity, the song finally ended. He smiled weakly at Ginny and excused himself, saying he needed to use the loo. He searched the outskirts of the crowd as he pushed his way through. Spotting Draco, he hurried to his side.

"Draco, have you –"

"He went that way. Better hurry, he didn't look amused," Draco told him, pointing to the doors of the Great Hall.

"Thanks," Harry replied, not bothering to respond even when he heard someone calling his name.

He pushed out the doors of the Great Hall and made a beeline to the stairs leading to the dungeons. Before he reached the stairs, someone caught him by the back of his dress robes and pulled him into a darkened corner.

Before he could say a word, Snape's mouth was covering his, the kiss possessive and demanding[R2 .

Harry fell back against the wall, his hands scrabbling at Snape's arms as he clung to him. The world tilted alarmingly and his head hit the rough stone with a dull _thunk_ that sent light racing past his eyes.

Snape pulled back, the sound of Harry's head hitting the wall finally getting through the fog in his mind. "Are you hurt?" he panted.

"Thank you."

"For slamming your head into a wall?" Snape asked, confused.

Harry shook his head. "I was worried."

"Afraid I was going to yell?" Snape asked, leaning in and kissing Harry's neck, needing to erase any memory of the chit he had just held in his arms.

"The least of my worries really."

"What then?" Snape asked, finally pulling back to look at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "It was stupid," he said, leaning forward until his cheek was lined up with Snape's jaw. "Just leave it, all right?"

"I have to go back," Snape said. "Come to my quarters later?" Snape knew he was playing with fire tonight, that his possessiveness was putting his desire for Harry on edge. But he didn't care.

"Can I just go there now?" Harry asked hopefully.

"You know the password," Snape said, nipping Harry's jaw lightly. "I'll be there once all the miscreants have been sent to their rooms."

"So I'll see you around two in the morning then?" Harry joked.

"If I'm that late, kill me," Snape said, turning away and returning to the party.

Harry didn't bother trying to hide the daft smile on his face as he made his way to Snape's quarters.

* * *

The familiarity of the brittle pages eased Harry's mind as he pulled the journal off the shelf he'd left it on during his last stay with Snape. Crossing the room, he cast a spell at the fireplace and immediately a fire sprung to life from the dead embers. 

He flopped down into Snape's chair and started flipping through the pages of the journal. It was a strange sort of homecoming as his eyes scanned the slanted text, trying to recall what he'd read last.

**_August 1570_**

_I can't believe that it's reached the point that I'm even contemplating asking Thelonious to make the vow. I know he would do it without question; it is the kind of man he is. But what kind of man am I to ask it of him?_

_**September 1570**_

_I have been urged to take shelter elsewhere. The palace is under siege and I fear that my time here is running short. Thelonious has not let me out of his sight in the past fortnight and I cannot say if this pleases me or annoys me to the point of fury._

_Helena and Jamie have fled, for which I am grateful. They shall be at the manor waiting for me. It is no longer a matter of 'if', it is a sure 'when'._

_I am losing power. Mother is dismayed, but I find that I do not care. I never wanted this position in the first place. It is not my fault I was the firstborn. _

_I do not want this, any of this. If my stepping down from power means that the fighting and bloodshed shall end, then I will step down without question._

_I can feel the wards surrounding the castle quivering__ under the force of both Muggle power and rogue magic users. I sense the way they warp with each passing hour. They shall fall. There is nothing I can do about it. I have no doubts this palace will fall into disrepair. I hope for it. This place has brought my family nothing but misery._

**_October 1570_**

_Thelonious has made the vow. Our families are now bound for the remainder of the ages. I did it to ensure the safety of little James. Whether or not I survive this, my son must, at any cost. Thelonious did no__t hesitate, and yet I could see the pain in his eyes. Not that he was asked to make the vow, but that he believed I didn't trust him to do his duty. It's not true! I trust him with my life, with the life of my family. Whether his sons will understand that kind of loyalty, I do not know._

_Forgive me, Thelonious. I cannot do this without you._

**_October 1570_**

_The castle wards have been breached; all that is left are the Muggle defenses. A delegate has gone down to speak with the mob to see what it is they want from us. I know this will not end well._

_**November 1570**_

_Thelonious has told me I must leave and I believe him. I wish I hadn't been so foolish as to tell him to stay even when I go. I want him with me. I want him to go with me and my chest is on fire just thinking of having to leave him behind. There is no doubt in my mind that if I go without him, I shall never see him again._November 1570 

_How can I leave him behind? I want to beg him to come with me, but his duty is here, and mine is to my son. He needs a father. Why must it hurt so badly?_

_**November 1570**_

_Thelonious,_

_You must find me utterly despicable. I am leaving just like you said, yet I cannot find it within me to say farewell. I cannot look you in the eyes and say those words. By this point you may be out at the castle gates, helping to aid in my escape and I cannot even bear to think on it for too long. Too many times you have come back to me on the brink of death and I do not want to think that there may come a time when you will not be alive._

_My bonded, if I had once thought to censure my words during our last audience I would never have demanded you stay. I want you with me. Helena may have my name, but you—_

_I fear I'm waxing sentimental and that is a foolish thing to do. There is little time for such senseless drivel, and if you dare snort at me I will know._

_I love you. I may have only said it once, but it was no truer then than it is now. I love you and no other as much as you. If there is one thing I regret more than anything it is that I did not come to see you last night._

You asked to see me and I could not bring myself to make it to your door. I couldn't even think about the idea, or entertain the idea of seeking comfort in your bed when the next day I will not even be in the same country.

_Stay safe, Thelonious. That's the last thing I shall ask of you. Keep your wits about you and stay out of harm's way. You have a child on the way and a wife who is devoted to you. Do not let them down._

_I have cast charms upon this journal so only my descendants and their bonded may read these words. Not a day has gone by since we bonded that I feel it was wrong. Take that as you will._

_With love,_

_Carlisle_

Harry turned the page, but the next page was blank. When the journal picked up again, it was in a different hand.

Harry closed the book and let it rest on his chest. He wiped at his eyes, feeling like a girl at the tears that were threatening to fall. The worst part was, he had no idea what had happened next. Did they see each other again? Did Thelonious die protecting Carlisle?

Could he ever feeling that deeply for Snape?

_Could he not?_ He shook his head and set the journal carefully on the floor. Taking off his glasses he set them onto the leather-bound piece of his history and curled up on the couch in a fetal position. Even with his shoes and dress robes on, it only took a matter of minutes before Harry found himself asleep.

* * *

It was after midnight before Snape returned to his quarters to find Harry curled up on the couch. The journal was on the floor and Snape picked it up, but the pages were all blank. He debated whether to let Harry sleep, or to wake him up moving him to the bed.

The white-hot spike of arousal he had felt earlier was tempered on seeing Harry as he was now. He looked absurdly small, curled up like that. Snape reached down, brushing a lock of hair away from Harry's scar.

"Sev'rus?" Harry mumbled.

"Can you wake enough to make it to bed?" Snape asked, an odd sense of protective tenderness nearly overwhelming him. He cleared his throat. "I'm too old to be caring for you," he said a bit more gruffly.

Harry's lethargic blinking amused him.

"Glasses?"

Snape bent at the waist and picked the glasses up from the floor, handing them to Harry. "That's a good way to get them crushed underfoot."

"Suppose so." Harry put them on and blinked some more until his vision cleared.

Snape held out his hand. "Come to bed, brat."

Harry gave him a lopsided grin as he took Snape's hand. "You still owe me a dance."

Snape pulled Harry up and against his chest and holding him closely, began to sway.

Harry laughed as he tripped over Snape's shoe. "I didn't mean now."

"Now is as good a time as any," Snape murmured, tightening his hold. He inhaled deeply, taking in Harry's scent, the feel of his body against his own. The arousal returned, but it was a slow burn, not the quick heat of earlier.

Harry didn't argue that logic. He rested his head against Snape's shoulder much as Ginny had done to him earlier, only this time it didn't feel weird, nor was it unwelcome to feel Snape's cheek brush against his hair.

Harry wrapped his arms around Snape's waist, interlocking his fingers and letting more of his body relax against Snape's. He felt content and cozy...and Snape's erection was against his hip. They hadn't even kissed or anything, but Snape was still turned on, still wanted him.

Harry's chest was suffused with warmth. A feeling he didn't recognize seemed to take hold of him. He smiled against Snape's shoulder, thinking it was odd that he'd never been happier than in that moment.

But like all moments this one had to end, and too soon for Harry's liking, Snape pulled away.

"Bed," Snape said, taking Harry's hand and leading him to the bedroom. "I've got a headache the size of Ireland," he admitted tiredly.

Harry didn't even bother changing. He just kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his robes before crawling onto the bed.

Snape snorted, and went about his normal bedtime routine before sliding into bed next to Harry. Harry shifted backwards toward him and Snape pulled him snugly against his chest. Soon, they were both sound asleep.

"Where'd you go last night, Harry?" Ron asked at breakfast the next morning. Harry rolled his eyes and shot a pointed look up at the head table. "Oh." Ron's ears went red. Harry did nothing to disabuse him of the notion that something more had happened.

"Harry, you're...glowing," Hermione said, laughing. "Must have been some night."

"It was an interesting one, to be sure," Harry said vaguely.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Harry? Did you...you know?"

"Remember the chat we had awhile back about his privacy?" Harry said, grinning, enjoying teasing his friends. Things were normal between them again, and he didn't feel as though he had to walk on eggshells around them.

"If you did, I don't want to hear about it," Ron announced, face screwing up in distaste. Harry laughed and slapped him on the back.

"If you insist."

"I insist," Ron said, shuddering.

Hermione's giggles entered into the noise and Ron shot her a betrayed look that only made her laughter increase, Harry's too at that. Ron sulked and pushed his sausage around his plate.

"I wouldn't tell you any of that," Harry assured him once he had managed to calm down. "I wouldn't tell either of you about that."

Hermione looked put out and Harry didn't want to know why. "But, if something does happen, I'll tell you, in the simplest way I can."

"So then nothing happened?" Hermione asked, hoping for clarification.

"If you're still asking, then I haven't told you in the simplest terms, which means that no, nothing happened."

"Merlin, you're starting to talk like him," Ron groaned.

"You don't have to be mean about it."

Ron shoved him and Harry grinned.

Harry glanced up at the High Table to find Snape looking at him, a strange expression on his face. Harry grinned, and Snape inclined his head in Harry's direction. Even from that distance, Harry could see the way Snape's eyes softened for a moment before he looked away.

It wasn't hard to miss the sudden burst of whispering. Harry rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast in peace, listening to Ron and Hermione squabble. Christmas really could not come soon enough 


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

** Chapter Eighteen**

When the Christmas break finally arrived, Harry and Hermione went ahead to the Manor. Harry had invited her to spend a few days there before she went to her parents'. Snape was going to join them the next day, as he had a few things to get settled before leaving the school until January.

It was the first time Harry had Apparated on his own to the Manor, and it was the farthest he'd Apparated at all. Hermione laughed as he checked himself over to make sure he'd left nothing behind.

"What?" Harry grumbled, once he was certain he was altogether there. He took her by the hand as they passed through the wards. They still felt stable, and he was surprised he could still feel them at all.

Hermione gasped. "Harry, this place is huge!"

Harry laughed. "That's what I said."

"Absolutely beautiful," she continued in a breathy whisper. She tugged his hand. "I want to see. Come on!"

Harry let Hermione drag him up the dirt path towards the large building.

"Where's the garden you planted?" she asked, looking over the grounds.

"Around the side, I'll show you before the sun sets. Right now I want to see if the portraits are out yet," he said, placing his palm on the door, causing it to open.

"What do you mean 'out'?" Hermione asked, stepping through the door.

Remember that fight I had with Ron? Because he wouldn't tell me what Thelonious said...at least I think it was Thelonious. Anyway, the people in the portraits all disappear when Snape and I are here. I was hoping they might show themselves this time."

"That's very odd," Hermione said, turning to hang up her cloak on a coat hook. "Normally they are more obedient to the master of the household, much like the house elves."

"Well, clearly mine are used to being self reliant because they're being bloody obnoxious!" Harry shouted the last bit down the entry hall.

A disgruntled snort could be heard off to Harry's left and he glared. "There's no need to shout, young man. Our ears work perfectly fine."

Harry whirled to face the portrait, expecting it to be empty, but there was man there, sneering down his nose at Harry.

"You're there!" Harry said, surprised.

"Of course I am here, and you are there."

Harry bristled. When he said he'd hoped they'd be out and about, he hadn't hoped to be insulted. Hermione laid a hand on his arm and he shot her an irritated look. He could be pissed off if he wanted to be.

"Don't act like you've been there all along," Harry said irritably. "Has everyone finished hiding now?"

"Depends on what you mean by hiding. Are we all out in the open? Then yes, for the most part, we are all here."

Harry dashed to the stairs, hoping to see Thelonious in his portrait.

Only when he got there a little girl resided in the frame playing with a doll. He tried not to act too put out and smiled when she looked up at him.

"Harry!" The girl cried in delight, Harry suspected she was around five. "Your mummy always talks about you! But she didn't say you were so big!"

"My mum?" Harry asked, feeling as though the breath had been knocked from his lungs. "My mum is here?"

"Of course." She giggled at his dumbfounded expression and for once he was glad that Hermione had kept up with him and was by his side because he felt ready to fall over.

Her fingers interlaced with Harry's and he squeezed her hand tightly in return. "Do you know where she is? Where I can find her?"

The girl giggled again and shook her head. Ringlets of black fell across her face as she clapped her hands over her mouth. Looking around her, the little girl crawled forward and beckoned Harry closer.

"You've got to find it first," she whispered conspiratorially.

"Find what?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low as he played along.

She shook her head again with a giggle. "The hallway, silly."

Harry glanced at Hermione, wondering if that made any sense to her.

"Harry has to find where her portrait is hung? On his own?" Hermione asked gently.

"Yes, in the hallway," the little girl repeated. She looked to her right and yelled, "Coming, papa! I have to go. 'Bye!" she cried and skipped out of the frame.

"Wait!" Harry shouted, but the girl had already vanished and could be heard humming at the top of the stairs.

"Do you know what hallway she was talking about?" Hermione asked.

"No, it could be any one of them! The portraits have all been empty; she could be in any of them!" Harry cried, wanting to pound the wall in frustration.

Hermione grasped his shoulder and squeezed. "It's all right, we'll find it. There are only so many places it could be."

Harry turned with a desperate expression on his face. "You have no idea. I was here for a month and I still haven't seen all of this place."

"We've got nothing else to do," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice hopeful.

"You're sure you want to help me with this?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "Harry, I came to spend time with you at your home. If I get to meet your mother it will be an honor, even if she is just a portrait."

Harry grinned.

"Now come on," she urged, nudging him with her elbow. "I don't even know how many floors this place has, let alone how to get anywhere."

"I still don't know how to get places," Harry said, laughing. "Alright, let's go and find my mum!"

Two hours later, they sat in the kitchen, Harry brooding over his tea and Hermione trying to get him to eat something.

"We'll find it, Harry. At least you know it's here!"

"I wish I knew why it was here though," Harry sighed, resting his head on his palm.

"I doubt your mother's portrait is here alone, Harry. I have the feeling your father's is here too."

Harry gazed at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It's just a theory, but I doubt your mother would have her own portrait in your family home, even though she did marry in. She was raised as a Muggle, her first wizarding portrait would have been one done for your parents' wedding."

"Oh," Harry said, blinking as he processed the information. "Both my parents. That would be...brilliant," he said, grinning.

A few seconds later, his face fell. "If I can find them, that is."

Hermione reached across the table and gripped his hand. "We'll find them, Harry. If only because I doubt they can wait to speak with you either."

* * *

The rest of the day and most of the evening had been spent exploring the Manor and searching for the portraits. If Harry heard, "I'm sorry, but you have to find it yourself," one more time he was going to burn the whole lot of them. 

It was late now and he had shown Hermione to the room she'd be sleeping in for the next few days. The candles were dim in their holders in respect for the sleeping residents of the paintings. Harry missed Hermione's presence, even though he could now take time to think on his own.

The futile search had left him drained, but he couldn't sleep.

He walked along the darkened corridors, trailing a finger along the cool walls. He felt numb and exhausted, but he couldn't go back to bed. It was just like wandering the halls of Hogwarts late at night; a distraction.

He turned down another corridor, and slowly came to a halt. Bewildered, he looked around at the sheets covering some of the paintings and at the thick layer of dust on the floor. He rubbed his fingers together, smearing dirt and dust between them, before wiping them off on his pajamas. Why hadn't the house elves cleaned this mess up, he wondered, moving forward again cautiously.

The sheets were just adding to his unease, so he began pulling them off one by one, revealing the paintings underneath. All of them were pictures of the interior of some building with hundreds of people bustling around in each.

Harry watched as someone carrying a platter of food tripped and fell sending the food flying. The figure hurried to pick things up, but someone had seen the mishap and was now making it worse by grinding the food into the floor. Harry watched as the figure gazed on in distress before trying to chip the food off the stone floor with his fingers only to have them stomped upon by the same man who had smeared the food.

"Will you leave him alone?" Harry snapped, flushing when everyone in the picture stilled to look at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Leave him alone!" Harry repeated.

The man scowled, digging the toe of his boot into the servants hand once more before backing off. "As you wish," the man sneered, before storming away into the portrait beside his.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked the servant who was cradling his hand against his chest.

"Y-yes," the man stammered. "Thank you."

Harry nodded, and looked around at the sea of faces all of whom were waiting to see what he'd say next. A younger girl who looked to be about eleven moved forward. She curtsied low much to Harry's bemusement. "Your majesty, I must thank you for putting Jasphar in his place. We have been wanting him gone for a long time."

"Uh, you can just call me Harry," he said, smiling at the girl.

The girl looked scandalized. "Sir, I could not possibly!"

"No, really; please, please call me Harry," he begged, and then paused. "What is your name?"

"Mary. Mary Miller," she said. "It has been so long since anyone has been in residence. We are all very excited."

"Why were your paintings all covered in sheets?" Harry then asked, gesturing down the corridor to the ones he had yet to reveal.

"The elves did not notice this corridor. It is under a magical protection and the other portraits are not allowed to speak of it. This is the wing for the Royal Family, and is therefore off limits to outsiders. But you are not an outsider," she finished, beaming at Harry.

Harry wrinkled his nose and sighed. He should have known. "Are all the paintings like these three?"

"No," Mary answered, blonde curls bobbing as she shook her head. "Further down the hall are a few large family portraits and some individual ones. Your mother and father have been hoping you would find your way here. They have been—"

"Mum and Dad are down here?" Harry interjected, hope flaring.

Mary smiled. "Of course they are."

"But how? I mean," Harry broke off in thought. "Why is their portrait here in the manor? Severus said my dad didn't even know this place existed."

"He did not, but all portraits are magically duplicated to go to the family home along with wherever you wish the original to hang."

"How far down? Where are they?" Harry asked excitedly.

Mary laughed. "They are at the end of the hall, the third to last painting on the left, beside the door."

"Thank you, Mary," Harry said, giving a little wave before running down the hall and stopping at the third to last painting. Feeling unaccountably nervous, he wiped his damp palms on his thighs before taking the sheet and slowly pulling it from the frame.

"It's about time," Lily scolded gently as the last of the white sheet fell from the frame.

"Mum," Harry said, a bit breathless. He was embarrassed that his eyes were welling up. They were here!

"Hey, what about me? Giving your mum all the attention, some blokes might get jealous," James teased, dodging a blow as Lily made to swipe at his head.

"Hi, Dad," Harry said, grinning so wide his cheeks were beginning to ache. "I can't believe you're both here."

Lily managed to smack James once hard against the chest before answering. "We've been waiting ages to see you, love."

"If I had known about any of this, I would have come sooner," Harry said. "Nobody would tell me anything."

"You had to find this place on your own."

"It's a rite of passage," James supplied promptly, but his face fell. "One which I decided to ignore."

"Then you know? I won't have to explain all this insanity?" Harry asked, relieved he wouldn't have to start at the beginning.

"I imagine it came as quite a surprise," James said, looking sheepish.

"Quite a surprise?" Harry repeated. "I passed out."

James laughed and Lily shoved him. "Stop laughing at your son," she scolded.

James tried to school his features, but Harry could tell he was still trying not to laugh.

Harry shook his head. "It's not funny. You'd pass out too if you suddenly discovered you were royalty."

"Is Severus with you?" Lily asked.

"Who cares, he's here with a girl," James said, grinning at Harry. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"She's my best friend," Harry stressed. "And she's my best mate's girlfriend. I couldn't touch her even if I wanted to, and I don't."

"So where is Severus?" Lily asked again, and this time Harry picked up the concern in her voice.

"He's coming. He had some things to take care of so he doesn't have to go back until January," Harry assured her.

"Harry, I know you've got no choice in this, but once the bonding is done, you never have to let him touch you again," James told him, and his fists were clenching at his side. "Nobody would blame you."

"What if I want him to?" Harry shot back, becoming irritated.

"But you don't," James said with confidence, "so it's a moot point."

"Can't wait, actually," Harry said, taking a perverse pleasure in seeing his father's reaction. This wasn't how he had planned his first conversation with his parents would go.

"Harry. James," Lily chided, and Harry backed down.

"Sorry."

"It sounds like things are going well then," Lily continued, smiling. "Thelonious and Carlisle will be pleased."

"Wait, what?" Harry yelped his face colouring so fast his dad started to laugh again.

Lily smirked and tossed some of her hair over her shoulder. "Did you honestly expect them not to be interested in this?"

"I didn't expect them to have portraits."

"They're looking forward to meeting you. Both of you," Lily added, laughing.

"I'll never be able to look them in the eye," Harry moaned.

"Carlisle's not so bad, Thelonious is a prat though," James said, earning him a look from Lily. "Oh come on, Lil, you know he can be a stubborn bastard. If it wasn't for him, we could have seen Harry the first time he was here."

"Be that as it may, he's still a good man and you know that, James." Lily smiled down at Harry. "I believe you met his daughter earlier."

"I did?" Harry asked confused.

"The little black-haired brat," James added, earning a sharp pinch that made him yelp. "Lil!"

Harry glared at his father, wondering if he was always such a prat. "She was nice. If it wasn't for her, I may never have found my way here."

"Wait she told you?" Lily asked worriedly.

Harry shook his head. "No; but she mentioned talking to you. She didn't tell me you were here." He gestured around the hall.

"Ah, that's alight then."

"Then her papa called her away, so I'm guessing it wasn't a surprise to Thelonious at all," Harry added.

"He's a bit impatient," Lily said, smiling.

"I think your mum has a crush on him," James added, tugging gently on Lily's hair.

"I think you're delusional," Lily countered with a small smile.

Harry grinned and sat down on the floor. He leaned back on his palms and just listened to his parents bicker.

* * *

There was no sign of Harry when Hermione got up the next morning, and she assumed he was either having a lie in, or outside somewhere. She went to the kitchen and made herself tea and toast, then went to the library to examine the shelves. 

After an hour of browsing, she left with two tomes in her hands and an eager expression. The books in Harry's library were rare, and she doubted she'd ever get the chance to get her hands on half of them ever again. She deposited her finds in her room and set off to find Harry once more.

After searching for fifteen minutes and still not finding Harry anywhere, her worry increased. The house was huge, yes, but Harry wasn't willing to split up last night, so the idea that he would wander about by himself made little sense. She hadn't spotted him outside, and the fresh layer of snow was undisturbed.

An hour later, she had become a bit frantic. When she heard the door to the entrance hall open and close, she hurried in that direction.

"Harry! You had me worried! Where were – oh, hello, Professor," she said, blushing. "Is Harry with you?"

"No," Snape answered shortly as he hung his own traveling cloak beside Hermione's, "and nor should he be."

Hermione tugged at a lock of her hair. "I can't seem to find him."

"It's a big house," Snape said, brushing passed her.

"No, you don't understand, I haven't seen him since last night!" Hermione cried, following after him.

Snape froze. "And you just thought to tell me this now, you foolish girl."

Hermione bounced up and down a bit. "I thought saying he was missing was self explanatory!"

Snape went to grab his cloak.

"He's got to be inside somewhere; I already looked around the outside, there were no footprints in the snow," Hermione told him, wishing he would just hold still and actually listen to her for five seconds.

Snape growled and swung around to face her again. "Tell me exactly what you were doing yesterday."

Hermione told him about the search for his parents' portraits and that when she went to bed, she'd assumed Harry had gone too.

Snape stormed to the nearest portrait, which happened to be of a young maid. "Where is Potter?" he snapped, causing the girl to cower.

"Hush, Severus."

Snape stepped back, stunned. "Lily?" She looked just as she had the last time Snape had seen her.

Lily smiled. "You look well, Severus."

"As do you," Snape replied, blinking stupidly for a moment. "Granger seems to have lost your son. Do you know where he is? Is he alright?"

"He's fine. He was sleeping when I left to come and find Hermione."

"How do you—Harry told you," Hermione trailed off.

"He said you've been a wonderful friend," Lily said, smiling gently at Hermione. "Thank you."

"Where is Potter?" Snape asked through clenched teeth. He wanted to see for himself that the brat was okay.

"Calm down, he's fine. I already told you."

_"Evans."_

"Oh for goodness sake, Severus." Lily shook her head in exasperation. "Follow me then."

With a last scowl at Hermione, Snape followed Lily along the walls until they reached the dusty old corridor, Hermione following after. Harry was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, apparently sound asleep.

They watched as Lily walked through the paintings along the walls until she settled in the one beside Harry's head.

"Harry, love, it's time to get up."

Harry didn't so much as stir.

"Potter! Wake up!" Snape said much louder, causing Harry to scramble up, reaching for his wand.

"What happened? What's wrong?" His gaze darted around the room frantically, searching for the unknown danger. When he realized where he was he lowered his wand and glared. "Git."

"That's what you get for worrying me," Snape replied, smirking.

"Leave him alone, Snape," James warned, causing Snape to whirl.

"Or what? You'll throw paint chips at me?" Snape taunted.

James bristled and Harry could almost sense the impending explosion. He held his head in both his hands as he tried to fend off the headache he was developing. "Can you please not fight until I'm awake?"

Snape turned his attention to Harry. "I'll not stand for his insults," he growled.

"Then don't, but I wasn't only talking to you either."

"Don't put Harry in the middle of your old, petty arguments," Lily warned, glaring at the two men in turn. "James, why don't you go and tell Thelonious that Severus has returned."

"I'm sure he already knows," James answered, still glaring at Snape.

"James, please," Lily repeated, looking meaningfully at Harry.

With a final sneer at Snape, James disappeared from the portrait.

"What are you doing back already?" Harry asked once James was out of sight. "I thought you were busy."

Snape looked between Hermione and Lily before answering. "Perhaps I missed your company," he said stiffly.

Harry's smile was dazzling. "I'll eat my shoe if that's the truth."

"How would you like it prepared?" Snape asked, smiling. "I'm sure some barbeque sauce might help with the taste."

Harry laughed, and scrubbed at his face. He glanced up at his mum who had moved back into his view.

"How long was I here?"

"All night, love."

Harry blinked in surprise.

"And I couldn't find you, so I'm glad Professor Snape came back early," Hermione said, not masking her irritation. She smacked Harry on the arm. "You shouldn't make me worry!"

"I'm sorry!" Harry yelped.

"You should be."

"If I could speak to Potter alone for a moment, I would be most pleased," Snape said, keeping his as calm as well as he could.

"I'll return to the library. Come and find me when you're done, Harry." She kissed him on the cheek and disappeared down the long hallway.

Snape held out a hand, pulling Harry up, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close. "I did miss your company," Snape murmured into Harry's neck. He looked pointedly at Lily.

"Oh fine, I'll go and see what's taking James so long," Lily said, exiting the portrait.

Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around Snape and gripping the back of his shirt. "I'm not going to eat a shoe."

"I'm sure I could find you something much more pleasant to eat," Snape replied, pressing his hips against Harry's. Harry looked at Snape's face, wide-eyed and grinning.

"Do you like that? To do that, I mean?" Harry asked. He felt Snape shiver as he answered.

"Yes, I love doing that, very, very much."

Harry groaned softly. The dead silence caused him to look around. All the people in the paintings were staring openly, many with wide grins and nods of approval. Harry blushed, and buried his face against Snape's neck. "We need to get out of this hallway."

"There's a door down here, let's try there," Snape said, taking Harry by the hand and leading him down the corridor. He opened the door and they stepped inside.

The room was every bit as dust-covered as the hallway but twice as musty and Harry sneezed violently.

Snape banished the majority of the dust with his wand, pulling Harry inside. He kicked the door closed and tugged Harry to him again, this time kissing him hungrily, placing his hands on Harry's hips and pulling them flush with his own.

Harry grasped at Snape's shoulders as he tilted his head to the side and parted his lips.

"I really did miss you," Snape murmured, kissing along the juncture between Harry's neck and shoulder. "Thinking about you was distracting me, making me useless," he nipped the skin with his teeth, "so I came to claim you."

"You did finish what you had to do though, didn't you?" Harry asked, hoping Snape would say yes. Now that Snape was here he didn't want him to leave again.

"Mmm, yes, it's good enough," Snape said, resting his forehead on Harry's shoulder, trying to gain control of his libido.

"I told you they would be fine, Carlisle," a silky voice drolled from the wall.

Harry jerked away from Snape so fast the man almost lost his balance.

"Jumpy." Harry craned his neck, trying to find the portrait that had spoken. "Clearly your descendant."

"That is enough, Thelonious."

"And that would be yours," Snape said, scowling at the two men in the portrait who were looking far too amused. He snorted, studying the two men in the portrait who were in turn studying him.

"This would be the King and his Steward then?" Thelonious asked with a wry smile.

"Thelonious, stop being so irksome," Carlisle chided, his eyes sparkling.

"Don't worry. Snape is the most irksome person I know," Harry told them, grinning at Snape.

"Cheek, brat," Snape warned, studying the men in the portrait.

"I can see you're as respectful of your king as my steward was to me. Which is to say, not at all," Carlisle said, grinning at Thelonious.

"Coddling doesn't build character," Snape replied, smirking.

"Do you suppose sarcasm can be passed down?" Harry queried.

"Well you've made a case for idiocy being passed down," Snape said, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement.

Carlisle grinned broadly. "I see you two are finally getting along."

"When are you going to complete the bonding ritual?" Thelonious asked, folding his arms across his chest in a manner very reminiscent of Snape.

"Christmas," Snape replied, "not that it's any of your concern."

Harry looked between the two of them.

"It is very much my concern," Thelonious replied, his hand going to the hilt of the sword belted at his waist. Carlisle put a restraining hand on his arm.

"It's between them, Thelonious, let it go," Carlisle warned.

"Harry!"

Harry watched as the same little girl from the night before appeared in the portrait. She clung to her father's leg, her thumb migrating to her mouth. "Da', do you see him?"

"Yes, love, I see him," Thelonious said, resting a hand on her curly black hair. The little girl waved to Harry and Snape, smiling. "Hi again!"

"Hello," Harry said, grinning.

"I'm 'sposed to get Harry. His mummy wants him."

"She does?"

"Uh huh, Miss Lily's nice, do you know her Da'?"

"Yes, Katherine." Thelonious scooped the little girl into his arms and kissed her hair. "Where did you leave James?"

"Jamie wouldn' come out," she explained to Harry with a knowing nod. "He's littler than me. He's shy."

"Maybe you should tell him that we're pretty nice and that we would love to meet him," Harry said, smiling at the little girl, causing her to giggle. "Do you think you could show me where my mum is?"

She grinned up at her dad, who set her on the ground. "This way, your majesty," she said, breaking into giggles again. Chuckling, Harry followed her from the room.

Once Harry was gone, Carlisle and Thelonious were both glaring at Snape. "How in the dark is he?" Thelonious asked.

Snape shrugged. "As much as he needs to be. He knows more than he did the last time we were here."

"So he understands the ritual?" Carlisle asked.

Snape shrugged. "I haven't seen fit to tell him."

"You need to tell him," Carlisle said.

"No, he doesn't," Thelonious answered. "Events are already in motion. It will do the boy no good to worry over things he cannot change."

"He has a right to know!"

"And it is my place to tell him, if I so choose," Snape informed them.

Thelonious nodded and Carlisle took a deep breath before agreeing. "Just don't put it off for too long."

"When the time is right, I will tell him," Snape replied.

"The time is closer than you would like," Carlisle warned. "There are four more days until Yule."

"I will handle this my own way," Snape reiterated.

"Go and find your mate," Thelonious said. "I don't think he was quite finished kissing you."

"Perhaps if we hadn't been so rudely interrupted…" Snape returned, glaring at the two men then leaving the room.

Carlisle grinned at Thelonious. "Speaking of kissing..."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

Hermione had gone home to her family to spend Christmas, leaving Harry and Snape alone. It had been rather fun and exciting for Harry, because Snape would grab him and kiss him at the oddest times. The look on Snape's face was absolutely priceless when Harry came upon him and snogged the man senseless.

Yes, it had been a good couple of days. But now with the time of the bonding drawing closer, both of them were on edge and a bit short-tempered. At the moment, they were fighting over presents, and whether or not Harry was allowed to give Snape any.

"I can bloody well give you something if I want to!" Harry shouted.

"There is nothing I need! Save your money and your time!" Snape shouted back.

"You're getting me stuff," Harry pointed out for the fifth time.

Snape laughed. "That has nothing to do with it!"

"It has everything to do with it, you great bat!" Harry yelled. "You know what, Snape? As your King, I order you to drop this subject because my will is my own and I will give you presents!"

"That is the single, most ludicrous statement I have heard you utter to date."

Harry stared for a long moment before breaking into a broad grin and laughing. "Was kind of stupid-sounding, wasn't it?"

"Do what you want, Potter, you always do," Snape said, but there was no malice behind the words.

"Severus?" Harry asked, finding how odd it was that using his name was no longer strange. "Are you as nervous about tomorrow as I am?" He was fully expecting Snape to laugh at him.

"Yes, a bit," Snape admitted.

"I don't know what's supposed to happen."

Snape looked at the floor for a minute, then back up at Harry. "There is a bonding ritual before anything else. We will recite words, building upon the vow that is already in place. Once that is done, the sexual component must be fulfilled. Once that is done, the ritual is complete."

"I know what's going to be done, but what's going to happen...to us?" Harry looked over at Snape with scared eyes. "That's the part that's worrying me. When you first mentioned fidelity all I wanted to know was how the bond knew? What does this do to us?"

"There will a kind of mental bond that will exist too. What I mean by that is, we would have access to each other's minds. We would need no words to speak should we choose not to. I think we can both agree that we don't want the other wandering through our thoughts and memories?" Snape said tightly.

"No," Harry agreed.

"From what I understand, it will take a few days to learn to shut the other out when needed, otherwise it will get rather loud inside our heads," Snape said tiredly.

"So for the first few days we'll hear...every passing thought?"

"And feeling."

Harry felt faint. "Oh."

"It will get better with time and a little practice, and I promise not to go invading your mind or your emotions. But for a time, I won't have a choice; they'll thrust upon me, just as mine will be thrust upon you."

"That's...uh..." Harry stammered.

"Quite," Snape agreed. "I'd offer to give you a potion that would let you sleep, at least until I got control of mine, but I don't know how that would affect things."

"I'd rather not chance it." It took Harry a few seconds to realize he was trembling.

Snape stood and dropped to his knees before Harry, taking his hands in his own. "I'm sorry you have to do this. You shouldn't have to."

"But what about you then?"

"I had my chance to live my life as my own, and instead I tied it to two masters. Now I will tie it to you, but I find that in this case, I don't mind at all," he answered softly.

Harry stretched out a hand and lightly threaded it through Snape's hair. "You don't?"

"Not if it means having you with me for the rest of my life. With that, I will be content," he said, leaning forward and kissing Harry on the tip of his nose.

"You're going all soppy on me," Harry teased.

"Don't get used to it, brat," Snape said, smirking as he got to his feet.

"I'll try to keep that in mind."

"Lets go and decorate your blasted tree then, and maybe you'll stop nagging me about it at every opportunity," Snape said, walking towards the library.

"We should have done so two days ago."

"I had assumed you and Granger would do it, I didn't think you were waiting for me," Snape said, scowling.

"It's our tree," Harry said as if that explained everything.

"Which I now understand, so let's decorate the thing and be done with our tree," Snape said, a small smirk taking the sting out of the words.

"Without magic?"

"What?" Snape asked. "No magic? Why not?"

Harry bit his lip. "Never mind."

"Come on, Harry, spit it out. Does this have something to do with your Muggle upbringing?"

Harry's eyes sought out in Snape's in shock. "How'd you...?"

"It was a reasonable guess. So I take it we'll be doing this the Muggle way?" Snape asked.

"Not if you don't want to," Harry said.

"If this is our first Christmas, with our first tree, then I suggest we do it our way," Snape said.

"Which is?"

"We'll decorate it the Muggle may, then add fairy lights the Wizard way," he said smugly.

"Soppy," Harry said again with a smile.

"If you keep insulting me, you may find yourself present-less come morning," Snape warned.

"And then I'll read your mind tomorrow night, find them and open them anyway."

"Cheeky," Snape said, slapping Harry's arse. "Go and get your things for the tree, we don't have all day you know."

"No, but we do have all night!" Harry quipped with a sunny smile, before darting into the library.

Snape snorted and followed after him, amused despite himself. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd decorated a Christmas tree. He still had no real desire to do so, but Harry was so excited about the prospect, he wouldn't tell him no. Tomorrow was going to be stressful enough.

* * *

Harry knew why he was awake as he lay in his bed that night. Moonlight shone through the open curtains bathing the wood floor in pale light. Harry tossed, trying to get himself to settle down beneath the covers. The light was reassuring, and he didn't have it in him to climb off the bed and block it out.

Snape hadn't told him when they'd perform the ritual, but he bet the man just wanted to get it out of the way. His stomach clenched in unhappiness, and he groaned, burying his nose into his pillow. Harry heard a door opening and wondered if Snape was having trouble sleeping as well. He threw off the covers and dashed to the door, the cold stone floor turning his feet to ice. He opened his door and peeked outside. Snape was walking down the hallway, away from his own bedroom. Harry slipped out of his room and closed the door behind him with a squeak. The candles were flickering to life as they realized both occupants of the house were up and about, and it startled Harry for a second.

Harry quietly padded along behind Snape, curious about where he was going. He didn't want to bother him, so he tried to be quiet, hoping Snape wouldn't even know he was there. He reached the top of the stairs at the same time as Snape reached the bottom.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you decide to stop skulking about," Snape called, not even turning around.

Harry didn't even flush. He hurried down the steps, not bothering to try to mask his footsteps any longer. "How'd you know I was there?"

"I heard your door open and the occasional shuffling behind me," Snape answered, waiting for Harry to catch up. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why aren't you?" Harry countered.

"I was just going to make some tea and go back to bed. Would you like a cup?" Snape asked, ignoring Harry's question altogether.

"Yeah, sure."

They continued to the kitchen in comfortable silence and Harry sat at the table while Snape brewed the tea. Harry watched the methodical way Snape went about it, almost as though he were brewing a potion and not a simple pot of tea.

"I'm scared," Harry said into the silent room.

Snape stilled at the words, then poured them both tea. He set the cup in front of Harry and leaned against the edge of the table. "Would you like something to help you sleep?"

"Will it help make things easier tomorrow?"

"Only that you won't be exhausted when trying to cope with it all," Snape answered, sipping his tea. "If you'd like, you can sleep with me tonight, unless that would make things more difficult."

"I feel so stupid," Harry muttered, clutching his tea cup. "This isn't dangerous, or life threatening...is it?"

"No, but your life will be changing, and that can be distressing," Snape admitted.

"Yeah, but so is yours and you're looking as calm as ever."

Snape snorted. "I was a spy, Potter. It's habitual for me to mask my true emotions. If I were completely calm, I would be in bed sleeping soundly."

"It'd make me feel better if you showed them," Harry mumbled. With a shaky sigh, he brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip.

Snape sighed. "As I said, it's a habit and it is one I'll attempt to break, at least in your presence."

Snape stared into his tea for nearly a minute before speaking again. "I'm concerned for you, being tied to a man like me for the rest of your life. You deserve someone far more innocent and less jaded. That being said, there is a part of me that rejoices in the fact that you will be tied to me, that you cannot cast me aside, even if you want to. I revel in the fact that you will share my bed, that I will be the one to show you the pleasures to be found there. I have no intention of invading your thoughts when we are bonded, but I look forward to knowing how you're feeling at any given time. To knowing when you're hurt, so I can fix it. Yes, Harry, I am nervous, but in my case, the benefits greatly outweigh the costs," he finished softly.

Harry bit his lip. His mind not processing half of what Snape had said, but he got the gist of it and now he was at a loss for what to say. He had wanted honesty and he'd been given it. But he had no clue how to deal with it. He took another, deeper gulp of his tepid tea and averted his eyes.

"I'm going to bed," Snape said tiredly, realizing he'd said too much. "You're welcome to join me. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning." He set his cup in the sink and left the kitchen.

Harry nodded distractedly. Green eyes followed Snape's silent retreat from the room. Harry rested his forehead against the heel of his palm and exhaled. Snape surely couldn't have meant all those things he'd just said! But he knew that even the thought of dismissing it as false was stupid. Snape had never spoken of himself before, ever. Harry knew one thing for certain though; he wasn't going to be seeing his own bed that night.

Snape went to his room and slid under the covers of his bed, casting a warming charm to dispel the icy chill. He stared into the darkness, wishing he'd waited until after the ritual before opening his mouth. It surprised him when the door opened quietly a while later. He watched as Harry stood in the opening, hesitating for a moment, before moving across the floor quickly and slipping beneath the covers.

"Your feet are blocks of ice," Snape said by way of greeting. He slid his hand under the covers until he found Harry's and rested his own on top of it.

Harry grumbled incoherently into the pillow, and glared out of the one eye still visible.

Snape rolled onto his side and pulled Harry to him. "Brat."

"'Night."

"Goodnight, Harry."

The next morning Harry woke up to find the bed already empty, and that didn't surprise him one bit.

He got out of bed, used the toilet, brushed his teeth and splashed some water on his face. Peering into the mirror, he wrote his hair off as hopeless and made his way downstairs. The sounds from the library caught Harry's attention and he veered off in that direction instead of towards the kitchen. He found Snape, sitting by the tree and swatting irritably at a glowing fairy who kept circling his head. "Get back in that tree or I'm going to pluck off your bloody wings and use them in a potion!" he snarled just as Harry entered the room.

Harry leaned against the doorframe and shook his head. "What are you doing?"

Snape swatted at the fairy and glowered at Harry. "I was attempting to make the room festive before you woke up, but I am being hindered at every turn."

Harry laughed. "By a fairy?"

Snape glared at him. "Do you want your presents or not?"

"Depends on what I'm getting," Harry answered, moving to sit by the base of the tree.

"There are things here from Granger, various Weasleys, Hagrid, and other adoring fans of the King."

Harry picked up a bit of the artificial snow at the base of the tree and chucked it at Snape's head.

Snape ducked and pointed at a fairy. "You! Go and bother the boy for awhile!"

Laughing, Harry watched as the fairy made a series of rude gestures before flitting off out of the library. "Are they supposed to be that argumentative?"

"I don't know, I've never met one that wasn't, but then again, my personality doesn't lend itself to good relations with chipper fairies."

"I wouldn't say that." Harry lay down on the floor and stared up through the tree, blinking when he heard faint strains of singing.

"At least they're doing something I asked of them," Snape muttered, still scowling at the tree.

Harry tipped his head to the side, giving him the unfortunate view of Snape's knees. "You asked them to? Why?"

"Because you should enjoy at least some part of this day," Snape answered. "It's Christmas after all."

"You really are going soppy on me," Harry teased, fingering a bit of the tinsel falling off the tree. "But thank you."

Snape cleared his throat. "There's tea and scones if you're hungry."

Harry hummed in acknowledgment as he listened to the fairies sing in a tongue he didn't understand.


	21. Chapter Twenty

Beta'd by Rakina

The NC-17 rated version of this chapter can be found here: http// faynia. insanejournal. com /108555. html (all you have to do is remove the spaces and add**":"** after the http. I'm sorry but this is just another reason why I hate and am probably not going to be posting much more on this site.)

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

"You look handsome," Lily said, beaming at Harry. He stood before her portrait, dressed in his dress robes and feeling rather silly.

"Yeah, but I feel awful."

Lily shook her head. "You are getting married, love. You're allowed to feel awful."

"You're supposed to feel like vomiting?" Harry asked, tugging at his collar.

"Your father did vomit," Lily told him. "Twice, if what his father said was true."

"Really?" Harry asked, laughing. That made him feel oddly better. "Where is Dad?"

"Hiding." Lily rolled her eyes. "He's being a baby about this, Harry. But give him time, and he'll come around."

"It's not like I asked for any of this to happen," Harry said irritably.

"Is it going to be so awful?" Lily asked, frowning.

"No. Yes. I don't know! I don't know what to expect, and it will be weird having someone else in my head."

"You'll be in Severus' as well though."

"I know."

Lily sighed. "Harry, he's a private man, he's always been a private person. Do you understand how much worse this will be for him?"

"Of course I do!" Harry blew up. "Of course I know because he told me! And then he told me he didn't mind, and I just don't know what to do about it!"

"What do you mean?"

"Mum, last night…" Harry shook his head and dragged his fingers through his hair.

"Honey, I can't help you if I don't know what's going on. What happened last night?" Lily asked softly. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, he didn't hurt me." Harry slouched back against the door across from the painting of a field he'd found his mother in earlier. "He confused me."

"Severus is quite good at that," Lily said, and Harry sensed she was fondly amused.

"You didn't hate him, did you? Not like Dad anyway," Harry said thoughtfully.

Lily shook her head. "No. Don't get me wrong, he made me angry and there were times I wanted to hex some sense into him, but I never hated him."

"Do you think this will end well, Mum?"

"I think that's up to the two of you," Lily answered. "I've watched the two of you together, Harry. I've seen the expression on his face when he looks at you, when he thinks no one is looking. I truly believe he cares for you and will do right by you if you give him the chance."

"You've been spying on us?" Harry laughed.

"I prefer to think of it as making sure my son would be well cared for," Lily said, flipping her hair off her shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't be lurking around watching the two of you," she assured him.

"Oh god, Mum." Harry screwed up his face in horror.

"What? I've never been in your bedrooms and have no intention of visiting. In fact, most of the portraits in the main part of the house are going to leave you both alone for the next couple of weeks while you settle in."

"Will you be there though?" Harry asked. "This afternoon? I know Dad won't want to go, but--"

"Harry, of course I'll watch that part, most of us portraits will be there. It's not very often, from my understanding, that the bonding actually occurs here."

Harry nodded. "I suppose I should go and find Snape then. Severus. I just can't get used to that. I can't imagine he'll be pleased if I'm late," he said, chuckling nervously.

"I can't imagine he'd mind so long as you do show up," Lily said, and Harry could see her hand twitching as if she wanted to reach out.

"Thank you, Mum, I'm glad you'll be there," Harry said, smiling softly at his mother.

Her hand covered her mouth, and she had the same look Hermione got right before she started to cry over something sappy.

"Mum, please don't cry," Harry begged. Footsteps approached from his left and he turned to see Snape walking down the hall.

"I'm just happy, love," Lily assured him.

When Snape joined Harry in front of the portrait, Lily looked him up and down. "You look very dashing, Severus," she told him, smiling. "You should wear black more often," she teased.

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, but shortly his mouth fell open in shock.

Snape was laughing. "Thank you, Evans, if only you had given me such fashion advice earlier," he said, smiling genuinely at Lily.

"I would have if I had known you would have listened."

"Were you able to talk him out of running?" Snape asked, looking at Harry.

Harry gasped in mock outrage. "I wasn't going to run!"

"Does that mean you're ready?"

"I'm wearing the starched robes," Harry joked.

"Who knew you cleaned up so well?" Snape teased. "Shall we get on with it then?"

"Where are we doing this anyway?" Harry asked, snagging one of Snape's hands in his.

Snape interlaced his fingers with Harry's, squeezing his hand gently. "I had thought the library, but I have been ordered to do it in the study down here," he said, tugging Harry down the hallway.

Harry cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What for?"

"I expect because Thelonious and Carlisle don't wish to have to leave the comfort of their normal room," Snape grumbled.

"Pricks." Harry grinned and shook his head. "We're going to be stared at." The blank canvasses around him told him that well enough.

"The ceremony should be blessedly brief at least," Snape said, pushing open the door to the study.

"I'm going to screw this up, I just know it," Harry murmured.

"You'll do fine," Snape assured him, entering the room. Thelonious and Carlisle were standing in the middle of the largest portrait, and Snape assumed the women at their sides were their wives.

"Da' look!" Katherine cried, tugging on her father's robe. "He came back!" She turned to the little boy beside her. "See, Jamie. He's not scary at all. I told you."

Harry blushed and gave a small wave to the little girl. "Hello again."

"Katherine, behave."

Katherine scooted behind Carlisle's legs and peered out up at her father. "Yes, Da'."

"Severus, are you prepared to take the vow?" Thelonious asked.

"I am," Snape replied.

Harry gnawed on the corner of his lip. His eyes flickered up to meet Carlisle's.

"You're nervous."

"So were you," Harry shot back, nerves fraying.

Thelonious snickered, and Carlisle glared at him. "I warned you not to write everything down," Thelonious said, ignoring the look.

"You wrote in there too, I would like to remind you."

"So I did."

"Perhaps we can get on with this," Snape snapped, his nerves finally manifesting themselves.

Harry squeezed Snape's hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

Harry looked around the room, scanning the portraits until he found his mother. He was surprised to see his Dad slip into the frame and take Lily's hand. He winked at Harry, and something inside of him unclenched, knowing that his father was there.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Carlisle asked, a hint of a smirk playing at a corner of his lips.

Harry nodded, not yet trusting himself to not throw up. He knew he'd have to say something, but he was damned if he knew what. The one thing he did know was this was not like any wedding he'd ever heard of. For one thing there were no other actual people present. For all the eyes staring at him, not one of them could be counted on as a witness.

"Severus, please kneel before your King," Thelonious said, and his voice had become serious and businesslike.

Snape removed his hand from Harry's and knelt before him. Harry swallowed, wanting to tell Severus to stand up, to stand beside him, not kneel before him like a servant.

Carlisle sighed softly. "Relax, Harry."

Harry tensed and nodded at the command. He didn't like this at all. And what was he supposed to say?

"Severus Snape, do you hereby swear fealty, loyalty and fidelity to Harry James Potter, your King and Monarch?" Thelonious asked.

Snape looked up at Harry. "I so swear."

"Do you swear to fulfill the Vow of your ancestors, protecting your Monarch with your blood and very soul, even unto the death?"

Snape's eyes never left Harry's as he answered, "I so swear."

Carlisle stepped forward in the portrait. "Harry James Potter, do you accept Severus Snape as your steward and life mate?"

Harry licked his lips, unsure if there was some formal way he was supposed to answer.

"Yes. I do," he said, looking at Carlisle who nodded, then returned his gaze back to Snape.

"Do you agree to be bound to him, mind, body and soul?"

Snape was looking at him with such intensity that Harry couldn't look away from his black eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I agree," Harry said, his voice becoming stronger, drawing strength from Snape.

A blue glow began to form around the two of them, but Harry was hardly aware of it. He couldn't look away from Snape.

Severus.

The light built around them, and Harry felt his skin prickling as he and Severus seemed to absorb the magic surrounding them, until it became a part of them, and they became a part of one another.

"Rise, Severus, and join your mate," Carlisle ordered.

"No," Harry said, dropping to his knees. "I'll join my mate."

Carlisle smiled.

"You know what must be done to seal the bond?" Thelonious asked.

"Yes, we know," Snape rasped.

"When the act is complete, it shall be sealed, and none shall ever break it," Carlisle intoned, and Harry felt something vibrate within his chest.

"We know," Harry murmured, stretching out a hand to trace Severus' jaw. He could feel a tightness there that just wouldn't do. "We know," he repeated, moving forward, fingers stroking over Severus' high cheekbones.

"We know," Snape echoed softly and closed the distance between them.

When their lips met, it was like nothing Harry had ever felt before. It was completeness and it was perfection, and he couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else than with Severus. Distantly he heard noises of approval and knew it meant something, but in that moment he didn't care. His hands curved around Severus's chin and up to cradle his cheek and the back of his head. Then Snape's hands were cupping his face, and he was kissing him with a hunger that left Harry breathless.

When they finally pulled apart, Thelonious' chuckle broke the daze surrounding him, and Harry found himself blushing.

"Thelonious, leave them be," Carlisle admonished.

"Yes, my King," Thelonious answered, grinning.

Carlisle cuffed him on the back of his head, making Jamie and Katherine giggle wildly.

"If we're finished here?" Snape said, looking over his shoulder at the portrait.

"In a hurry?" Thelonious asked, earning him a glare from Snape.

"Are we?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Snape's smile made a shiver run up and down Harry's spine.

"Yes, you are done," Carlisle answered, taking pity.

Snape rose to his feet, and reached out a hand to Harry, pulling him up. "Are you ready?" he asked, kissing Harry softly.

A light blush stole up Harry's cheeks. Everyone was still in their frames, including his parents. "Yes."

Snape nodded.

"I trust there will be no visitors in the other parts of the house?" Snape said, his eyes scanning the portraits.

"I will see to it," Thelonious promised.

"Did you wish to speak with your parents?" Snape asked politely.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll just be a minute."

Harry went over to the portrait his parents were in, and his mother was dabbing her eyes.

"You did well, Harry," James said, and Harry could tell he was uncomfortable.

He appreciated the effort though. "Thanks. You okay, Mum?"

"I'm wonderful," Lily assured him. "It was just so lovely."

James rolled his eyes and Harry laughed. "I'll see you later then, I've got to… well, I'll see you later," Harry finished, blushing furiously. He hurried back to Snape's side so he didn't have to look at his father.

Snape took his hand, and led Harry out of the room. They walked in silence down the hidden hallway. Harry kept close to Snape's side, wondering if the man was as nervous about the next part as he was. "Where are we going now?"

"The library," Snape told him.

"What? The library? Why?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Because you're less liable to panic than if I drag you straight to bed," Snape replied.

"Oh." Harry looked down at the floor to hide his embarrassment. Snape would be right, if they had gone straight to bed he wouldn't have let Snape anywhere near him.

The Christmas tree still filled the library with twinkling lights and soft singing. "If you'll sit for a moment, I have something for you," Snape told him, walking to the tree. He reached into its branches and pulled out a small box; he returned to the couch and sat next to Harry.

Harry stared at the box in Snape's hand then back at his face. He met Snape's gaze and was startled to see that the man was nervous. Harry's fingers gripped his dress robes. "What is it?"

"You could open it and find out."

Harry's fingers were trembling slightly as he undid the string around the box and opened it. There was a silver band inside with strange markings around the outside. He looked curiously at Snape. "A ring?"

"It's tradition," Snape said, still looking nervous. "Though you can choose which finger you wish to wear it on if wearing it on your left ring finger makes you feel uncomfortable."

Harry held it up against the soft candlelight as he inspected the band. The markings looked like runes, but he couldn't tell which ones. He slipped it down on the left ring finger and jumped when it resized to fit his finger. "Tradition?"

"As sign of our bond and the vows that go along with it," Snape said, taking Harry's hand and examining the ring, turning it slowly around Harry's finger.

Harry licked his lips nervously. "Oh, but--"

"Yes?"

Harry frowned, and ducked his head. "Thank you."

Snape placed a finger under Harry's chin, raising his head. "You don't have to wear it," he said, frowning.

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"It's really nothing."

"I see," Snape replied, not seeing at all. He stood and walked to the tree, watching the fairies dance in and out of branches.

"Just a stupid thought," Harry tried to explain. "It really doesn't matter. I'm not exaggerating."

"As you wish," Snape replied stiffly.

Harry rubbed his eyes and sighed. There was no way he was going to tell Snape what he was originally going to say. Aside from sounding like a moron, he reckoned he really didn't want an answer to it either. He pushed himself off the sofa and crossed the room to stand beside Snape. He brushed his fingers over the man's hands once, twice, then curled his fingers around it.

Snape squeezed his hand gently. "Was it as bad as you thought it would be?"

Harry shook his head. "I feel silly for getting so nervous about it."

"You didn't know what to expect, it's understandable," Snape said reasonably.

"You didn't either," Harry pointed out, "but you didn't look like you were about to throw up!"

"I wasn't really losing anything," Snape said, shrugging. He tugged Harry until his back was against his chest. Releasing his hand, he wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his chin on the top of his head.

"And I was?" Harry asked, putting more of his weight against Snape.

"Hmm," Snape answered, leaning down and kissing the back of Harry's neck.

"Now who's being vague," Harry murmured, reaching up a hand, twirling loose strands of black hair through his fingers.

Snape let his teeth graze across the sensitive skin of Harry's neck. His hand slid up Harry's waist to his collar and he pulled it out of the way, giving himself better access.

Harry shivered and did nothing to hide the fact. He let his head hang to the side, exposing more of his neck.

Snape slid his other hand around, parting Harry's robes and sliding a hand under his shirt. His fingers trailed upwards, brushing across Harry's nipples while at the same time he sucked on Harry's neck.

"Should we be doing this in here?" Harry gasped.

"We aren't doing anything yet," Snape murmured, flicking Harry's earlobe with his tongue. "Let me know when you're ready to do something, and we'll go upstairs," he continued, sliding his hand down across Harry's stomach, to his hip and down his thigh.

"Keep doing that, it might be sooner than you'd think."

"Mmm," Snape hummed, sliding his other hand down Harry's other thigh, then sliding them both upwards, his thumbs barely grazing Harry's erection. "No hurry," Snape whispered, kissing the other side of Harry's neck.

"No hurry?" Harry repeated with a small whine.

"Shall we go upstairs?" he asked silkily.

Harry nodded, shivering at the voice so close to his ear.

Snape released Harry with a last kiss to his neck. He took him by the hand, kissed his palm, and led him up the stairs and to the bedroom.

By the time they made it to the bedroom, Harry was looking tense and nervous again. That just wouldn't do. Snape sat on the edge of the bed, and placed his hands on Harry's hips, pulling him forward to stand in front of him. He slid his hands up under Harry' shirt, caressing his flesh.

Harry's head bowed till it touched his chest and he watched the hands under his shirt with fascination. The occasional gasp became the only outward indication that Harry was enjoying the treatment.

Snape lifted Harry shirt and placed his lips against his stomach, his tongue flicking against his belly button.

"That tickles," Harry gasped, squirming in Snape's hold.

Snape stilled for a moment. "Tickles?"

Harry flushed, and clenched his fists at his sides. "Yeah."

"We can't have that," Snape said, brushing his thumbs along Harry's waistband.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

"Still tickles?" Snape asked, repeating the motion.

"N-no."

Snape's thumbs moved lower, slipping under Harry's briefs, stroking across the hair bristling there.

"Can we please just get this over with?"

Snape's fingers froze and retreated from Harry's waist. "If you wish," he said, getting to his feet, causing Harry to stumble backwards. Snape shrugged out of his robe and began undoing the buttons of his shirt.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Harry stammered.

"Getting it over with. How would you like me? On my knees or on my back?"

Harry held up his hands and slowly backed away from Snape like he was a wild animal. "W-wait, what?" he yelped. "I-you-what!"

"You wanted it over with, I'm merely trying to accommodate you," Snape said, frowning.

"I know what I said," Harry snapped, raking his fingers through his flyaway hair.

Snape sat on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned. He buried his face in his hands and asked, "What do you want me to do? I'm trying to make this bearable for you, but I'm obviously doing it all wrong. So just tell me what you want."

Harry moved slowly across the room and sat down on his hands at the edge of the bed. "Look at me."

Snape looked at Harry, feeling defeated in his efforts. "Yes?"

"Explain."

"I thought that is what I just did."

"No, not that," Harry bit out, irritated. "I meant that--" Harry gestured to Snape's open shirt. "Why am I the one that's supposed to do things?"

"Because I must submit to you to place the final seal on the bond," Snape explained.

"But I thought you'd already done that?"

"To put it simply, the ritual isn't over until you fuck me. Is that clear enough?"

"Crystal." It was Harry's turn to bury his face in his hands. He was going to screw this up so badly.

"I thought I had explained that to you already; that you understood."

"Well, clearly I didn't."

"Now what?" Snape asked tiredly. "Do you need a potion or something to arouse you? I prepared one, just in case."

Harry shook his head. "Kiss me?" he suggested weakly.

Snape didn't speak as he shifted across the bed and gripped Harry's chin between his fingers. Scanning nervous green eyes, Snape leaned forward and ghosted thin lips over Harry's. When Harry didn't pull back, he moved his hand to cradle Harry's flushed cheek. He ran his thumb over the smooth flesh, before dipping down to capture Harry's lips once more.

The kiss was becoming more heated by the second, and Harry was afraid his heart was beating so fast it would come right out of his chest. Then Snape pulled him back on the bed, his hands moving gently over Harry's body.

Snape went slowly, removing Harry's clothes piece by piece, surprised when Harry began to remove his as well. "You're sure—"

Harry sucked on Snape's lower lip with a pointed look, and so he stayed silent. Not that Snape's brain could have formed a coherent argument at that point. One of Harry's hands ran up and down Snape's chest while the other one struggled with the button on Snape's trousers. Harry's thumb brushed across Snape's nipple and the older man shuddered. Pushing away Harry's clumsy fingers, he hastily undid the button and pushed his trousers down over his hips. He canted his hips up and Harry helped him drag off his trousers completely. Severus gazed at Harry through lidded eyes, waiting for a reaction. Whether it was positive or negative, this had to happen tonight. Harry seemed riveted though; his thumb had stopped its lazy circling around his nipple as he simply stared at Snape's naked body. A slow smile parted Harry's lips; sparkling green eyes rose to meet black.

Less than twenty minutes later, they both lay panting side by side, completely spent. "How was it?" Snape asked Harry, brushing the hair from his forehead.

"Short," Harry said, gasping at the cool air that hit his sweaty forehead.

Snape chuckled. "The first time is almost always short. Your stamina will increase over time." Curious to see how the bond was, Snape thought: _Which do you prefer, tea or cocoa?_ He waited to see if Harry would respond to the thought.

"Cocoa," Harry answered out loud then blinked. He turned onto his side, pushing back the sleepy haze that had stolen over him. "You didn't say that aloud did you?"

"No, I didn't. You try it. Think of me and of what you want to say."

Harry didn't think that'd be so hard. _What was that last question about?_

"Tea or cocoa," Snape said aloud, then grinned. "Interesting."

Harry grinned, slapping him lightly on the chest. "That's not what I meant, you git."

"It was just the first question that came to mind, and I haven't the slightest idea why," Snape admitted, resting his forearm across his forehead.

"I knew you were weird, but I didn't know you were_ that_ weird," Harry joked.

Snape arched his brow. _Brat._


	22. Chapter Twenty One

Beta'd by Rakina

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Upon their return to Hogwarts, they were the talk of the school. It was expected of course, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. Snape and Harry had enjoyed their time in their own secure little bubble and neither was looking forward to being back.

"Are you sure we can't go home?" Harry asked, throwing himself into Snape's armchair the first night they were back at school.

As bad as Snape's day had been, he had no doubt that Harry's had been worse. "Tell me the worst thing that happened," he said, seating himself on the couch.

Harry scowled. "Someone tried to stick gum up my nose using Waddiwasi."

Snape snorted. Then laughed outright, ignoring Harry's glare.

"Stop laughing, if I hadn't deflected the gum wad, I would have made you try and get it out."

"I think not!" Snape said, shaking his head. "Who was it? I'm sure I can find a reason to take points," he said, smirking.

Harry didn't answer right away.

"Or not," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "Is that what made you so angry earlier today?" he asked, studying Harry. He'd felt Harry's irritation all day, but at one point it had spiked higher than the rest.

"You could feel that?" Harry asked with a low groan. He leaned forward holding his head between his legs. "Yes."

Snape didn't want to admit that he'd been making an effort all day to monitor Harry on his first day back. "As you have nearly six months left, perhaps you should find another way to deal with the stress so you don't go mad."

"So going home isn't an option?"

"Unfortunately no, but you're welcome to hide here when it gets too much," Snape said, patting the empty space next to him on the couch.

Harry grinned. "You might want to reword that or you'll be seeing more of me than you want."

"I'm still not seeing the problem," Snape said, smirking. "I rather like it when I see all of you."

Harry's cheeks turned bright red, and he lashed out with his foot, trying to kick Snape in the leg. "That's not helping!"

"I also enjoy it when you blush," Snape teased before turning serious. "Give it another week and the novelty will wear off. You'll cease to be an interesting topic of conversation. I have no doubt Potions is going to be difficult, but once they realize I'll be treating you no differently, they'll have less to moan about."

"You said that when I found about my heritage," Harry reminded him. "Has that novelty worn off yet?"

"You're now married to your greasy git of a Potions Professor. I doubt anyone is even thinking about you being king," Snape pointed out.

"I'm not sure which is worse to overhear about in the halls."

"If you keep looking so miserable, people are going to think I'm abusing you," Snape replied, frowning.

Harry sighed and nodded. "It's hard to look happy when your best friend's sister tried to stick gum up your nose."

"Ginny Weasley? She's the one?" Now Snape had a name, he could find a way for her to lose points. Of course, everyone would know why she lost the points, which would just make things worse for Harry. However, if he took the points from say, Thomas or Finnegan, nobody would be the wiser.

Harry groaned. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about. Now stop sulking. Nothing can be changed, so you might as well learn to deal with it."

"I just wish they'd leave me alone. It's like they have nothing better to do with their time than to think of me. I'm really not all that exciting."

"I can't argue that," Snape smirked. "Do you plan on whining for the rest of the night, so I can steel myself accordingly?"

"And if I say I do?" Harry challenged.

"Then I'll need more tea," Snape answered calmly.

Harry deflated. "You're not going to shout at me?"

"Would you like me to?"

"It'd be the only normal thing to happen all day."

"If this attitude persists, I make no promises," Snape warned.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Is it no longer unethical for me to stay the night down here?"

"It would be inappropriate to make a habit of it. You should also keep in mind that the more frequently you are gone from your own bed, the more people will talk."

"Yeah, all right."

"You're irritable because you tossed and turned all last night. I'm going to give you a potion, you're going to go to your dorm room and you're going to drink it there. You can come back tomorrow when you're not feeling so sorry for yourself."

Harry grumbled in protest for about half a minute before caving in and nodding his acceptance. He needed the rest and a strong repelling charm so no more attempts would be made on his nostrils or any other part of his body.

Snape went to his bathroom and retrieved a vial of Dreamless Sleep, then returned to Harry. He handed him the vial. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Harry stood, pocketing the vial without looking at it. "'Night then."

Rolling his eyes, Snape took Harry's hand and pulled him into a hug. "It will get better," he whispered, kissing Harry softly. "Now off with you."

Harry grinned and exited the room, knowing that if things got really bad, he could always just torment Snape through the bond.

* * *

Weeks passed, and though it took longer than Snape thought it would, things did become relatively normal again. There were still random whispers in the hall, but people were more concerned about the drama of their own lives to worry about other people.

Harry spent at least one or two nights a week in Snape's quarters, but it wasn't nearly enough. So they found other ways to spend time together, and had become quite proficient at talking to one another through the bond when they were apart. Only Ron and Hermione knew the extent of their bond, and they usually left Harry alone when he got that faraway look in his eye that was a sure indication he was talking with Snape.

There were times Harry used the bond to his advantage, particularly in Potions class.

_Severus, is this supposed to be blue?_

_What does the board say, daft boy. Add more crushed clover, it should compensate for your idiocy._

_Git._

Harry was certain he heard Snape laughing in his head. Once the potion was the correct color he left it to simmer. He watched Snape stalk about the room, snapping out orders and generally making life hell for Harry's classmates.

Harry decided his mate needed a distraction before hexes started flying.

_Severus, have you ever given any thought to fucking over your desk?_ Harry asked innocently. He had to hold back a smile when he heard Snape stumble.

_Not funny, Potter._

_Was that a no? I've thought of you, bent over your desk. Or better yet, me bent over your desk. It's a fantasy that always ends well._

Harry could feel Snape's arousal, and it only fed his own. Perhaps it was the fact that Snape couldn't do anything that made Harry so bold when he asked, _Do you think anyone would notice if I was under your desk, sucking you off while you taught class?_

Snape stopped in the middle of his rant at Hannah Abbott, stumbling over his words for a moment before continuing. Harry could tell the man was trying to block him, but he must not have wanted it badly enough, because Harry could still feel him there, trying not to listen, but obviously unable to stop himself. He also realized something else.

_You've thought about it before!_ Harry said, unable to keep the smile from his face. _I'm shocked, Professor._

Snape brushed past him, and Harry was amused when he quickly sat behind his desk and scowled at Harry.

_Problem?_ Harry asked, meeting Snape's scowl with a grin.

_You're walking in dangerous territory, Harry,_ Snape warned, and Harry couldn't help but wonder how Snape made his voice purr that way.

_How so?_

Harry saw Snape moving his wand, but was still surprised when several of his unused beakers slid from the table and on to the floor.

"Potter, what are you doing?" Snape snapped angrily. At least he looked angry, but Harry didn't sense any real anger coming from him.

"Uh, sorry, I must have knocked them off," Harry said, eying Snape warily.

"Detention, Potter. You will learn to treat your property with more respect," Snape said, sneering. "Well, what are you waiting for? Clean it up!"

_That was cruel,_ Harry groused, casting a quick repairing charm on the glass vials.

_No, it will be cruel when I have you kneeling under my desk without anything between your knees and the stone floor,_ Snape replied smugly.

_Bastard._

This time, he was sure Snape was laughing.

_**END**_


End file.
